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 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 rolled
In its 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 took the form
(When the rest of Heaven was blue)
Of a demon in my view
Of a demon in my view

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