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
To 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.