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 round me rolled
In its autumn tint of gold –
From the lightning 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.