Site hosted by Build your free website today!

Alone By Edgar Allan 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 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

The mystery which bind 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 strom

And the cloud that took the form,

When the rest of Heaven was blue,

Of a demon in my view.

next page
return to index