Confessions of an English Opium Eater - Thomas De Quincey
The dream commenced with a music which now I often heard in dreams - a music of a preparation and of awakening suspense; a music like the opening of the Coronation Anthem, and which, like that, gave the feeling of a vast march - of infinite calvalcades filing off - and the tread of innumerable armies. The morning was come of a mighty day - a day of crisis and of final hope for human nature, then suffering some mysterious eclipse, and labouring in some dread extremity.
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