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From childhood's hour I have not been |
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As others were - I have not seen |
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As others saw - I could not bring |
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My passions from a common spring |
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From the same source I have not taken |
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My sorrow; I could not awaken |
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My heart to joy at the same tone; |
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And all I lov'd, I lov'd alone |
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Then - in my childhood - in the dawn |
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Of a most stormy life - was drawn |
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From ev'ry depth of good and ill |
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The mystery which binds me still: |
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From the torrent, or the fountain, |
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From the red cliff of the mountain |
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From the sun that 'round me roll'd |
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In its autumn tint of gold - |
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From the lighting in the sky |
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As it pass'd me flying by - |
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From the thunder and the storm, |
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And the cloud that look the form |
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(When the rest of Heaven was blue) |
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Of a demon in my view. |
