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
then 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 torrance or the fountain
from the red cliff of the mountain
from the sun that round me rolled
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
you
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