| From childhood's hour I have not been |
| As others were-I have not seen |
| As other 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 that I lov'd, I lov'd alone. |
| Then-in my childhood-in the 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. |
