“Alone” poem written by Edgar Allen Poe

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 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 form
(When the rest of Heaven was blue)
Of a demon in my view.