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
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 rolled,
in its autumn tint of gold
From the lightening in 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.