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 sorrow; I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone;
And all I loved, I loved alone.
Then- in my childhood, in the dawn
Of a most 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 cliff of the mountain,
From the sun that round me rolled
In its autumn tint of gold,
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 Heaven was blue)
Of a demon in my view.

by Edgar Allan Poe

Comments (8)

Something is wrong in this poem Text is different
wretched wight should read wretched knight or knight at arms other than that minor error this is a wonderful poem full of imagery and story
My favorite poem of favorite poet
Keats was morbidly ill. It seems to me that in this poem he is the knight, and his life is the woman. She is beautiful, but she has no mercy. There is a further parallel as in life he met a woman he loved and they could not marry because he was poor and dying. This is his lament. Beautiful.
'La Belle Dame Sans Merci' translates to 'The Beautiful Lady Without Mercy.'... I adore the fourth stanza of this poem... The woman described is strange and wonderful... and absolutely terrible. Her love is something that the knight desires, but that he learns to fear as well... This faery's child is nature in all her splendor and yes, mercilessness...
See More