Alone |
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 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—
—Edgar Allan
Poe, 1829; published September 1875 in Scribner’s Monthly
The Art:
All art is wholly owned by the artists.
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