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