From childhood's hour I have not been As others were—I have not seen As others saw—I could not bring My pa**ions 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 pa**'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—