[Poem 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 loved, I loved 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 around me rolled
In it's autumn tint of gold -
From the lighting in the sky
As it passed me flying by...

From the thunder and the storm,
And the cloud that look the form
(When the rest of Heaven was blue)
Of a demon in my view.

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