Alone

From childhood's hours 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 sorrows; 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 dawn

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 lightening in the sky

As it passed me flaying by---

From the thunder and the storm,

And the clouds that took form

When the rest of Heaven was blue

Of a demon in my view