poe

Today is Poe's birthday. Love that lonely man, more because he was so lonely.
​
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--

"Alone"