Sunday, November 17, 2002

------Alone-----
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 roll'd
In its autumn tint of gold--
From the lighting of the sky
As it pass'd me flying by--
From the thunder, and the storm--
And the cloud the took the from
(When the rest of Heaven was blue)
Of a demon in my view--

Edgar Allan Poe

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