Poem 1 - Alone by Spitoufs
Poem 1 - Alone by Spitoufs
From childhoods 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 lovd, I loved alone.
Then -in my childhood -in the dawn
Of a most stormy life -was drawn
From evry 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 rolld
In its autumn tint of gold -
From the lightning in the sky
As it passd 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.