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-- Iov´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 redcliff of the mountain
From the sun that round me roll´d
In its autumn tint of gold
From the lightening in the sky
As it pass´d 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 deamon in my view.
Edgar Allan Poe
Kommentarer
Trackback