| From childhood’s hour I have not been
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| As others were — I have not seen
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| As others saw — I could not bring
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| My passions from a common spring
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| From the same source I have not taken
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| My sorrow — I could not awaken
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| My heart to joy at the same tone
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| And all I lov’d — I lov’d alone
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| Then — in my childhood — in the dawn
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| Of a most stormy life — was drawn
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| From ev’ry depth of good and ill
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| The mystery which binds me still
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| From the torrent, or the fountain
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| From the red cliff of the mountain
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| From the sun that 'round me roll’d
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| In its autumn tint of gold
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| From the lightning in the sky
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| As it pass’d me flying by
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| From the thunder, and the storm
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| And the cloud that took the form
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| (When the rest of Heaven was blue)
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| Of a demon in my view |