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 loved, I loved alone.
Then - in my childhood - in the dawn
Of a most stormy life - was drawn
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 it's autumn tint of gold
From the lightning in the sky
As it pa**ed me flying by
From the thunder and the storm,
And the cloud that took the form
(When the rest of Heavens was blue)
Of a demon in my view.