From childhood's hour I have not been
As others were- I have not seen
As others saw- I could not bring
My passion 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 loved- I loved alone-
Then- in my childhood, in the dawn
Of a most stormy life- was drawn
From every 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 rolled
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.
- Edgar Allan Poe