Alone

by

Edgar Allan Poe


From childhood's hour I have not been

As others were--I have not seen

As others saw--I could not bring

My passions from a common spring--

From the same source I have not taken

My sorrow--I could not awaken

My heart to joy at the same tone--

And all I lov'd--I lov'd alone--

Then--in my childhood--in the dawn

Of a most stormy life--was drawn

From ev'ry depth of good and ill

The mystery which binds me still--

From the torrent, or the fountain--

From the red cliff of the mountain

From the sun that 'round me roll'd

In its autumn tint of gold--

From the lightning in the sky

As it pass'd me flying by--

From the thunder, and the storm--

And the cloud that took the form

(When the rest of Heaven was blue)

Of a demon in my view.


(1829)



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