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 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

Edgar Allan Poe, 1829.