Alone

<br>From childhoods hour I have not been<br><br>As others were I have not seen<br><br>As others saw I could not bring<br><br>My passions from a common spring.<br><br>From the same source I have not taken<br><br>My sorrow; I could not awaken<br><br>My heart to joy at the same tone;<br><br>And all I lovd, I lovd alone.<br><br>Then in my childhood in the dawn<br><br>Of a most stormy life was drawn<br><br>From evry depth of good and ill<br><br>To mystery which binds me still:<br><br>From the torrent, or the fountain,<br><br>From the red cliff of the mountain,<br><br>From the sun that round me rolld<br><br>In its autumn tint of gold <br><br>From the lightning in the sky<br><br>As it passd me flying by <br><br>From the thunder and the storm,<br><br>And the cloud that took the form<br><br>(when the rest of heaven was blue)<br><br>Of a demon in my view.