This poem was written by Edgar Allan Poe when he was only 20 and describes his own inner torment at that young age. Poem 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 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-- For more poems, check out the poems catalog page. Hey, do you write poems? Would you like to get it published on this website? Send us a copy of your poem. Contact us here
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