Alone

From childhood's hour I have not been,
As others were, I have not seen.
As others saw, I could not bring,
My passion 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,
All I've loved I've 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 cliffs of the mountain.
From the sun that round me rolled,
In it's autumn tint of gold.
From the lightning of 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.