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 that 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 lightning 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 demon in my view —