From childhood's hour i have not been
As others were
As others saw
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
Of a most stormy life
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.
