Alone
Edgar Allan Poe, 1845

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 loved--_I_ loved alone--
  _Thou_--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 roll'd
  In its autumn tint of gold--
  From the lightning in the sky
  As it passed 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.

March 17, 1829.