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Alone 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 sorroe; I could not awaken My heart to joy at the same tone; And all I loved alone. Then- in my childhood, in the dawn Of a mokst stormy life- was drawn From every depth of good and ill The mystery which binds me still from the torrent, or the fountain, From the red clif of the mountain, from the sun that round me rolled In its autumn from the lightning 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 heven was blue) of a demond in my view.
Poem
Citation Mille, Arthur m. '' The influence of Edgar Allan Poe on Abrose ''bierce'' American literature 4.2 (1932): 130 literary refrence center, EBSCO. web.20 nov. 2009.
