Everything sublime is as difficult as it is rare. Baruch Spinoza

Wednesday, July 8, 2009

Poetry


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 lightening 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.

Edgar Allen Poe

6 comments:

Lorac said...

I have had a few demons in my view lately, most of them wearing lab coats! Have a good one!(day that is)

Bonnie Zieman, M.Ed. said...

Love that poem - don't recall ever having read it. Hmmm yes - the mystery and the demon in my view . . . I interpret that as death - what is your interpretation? But maybe I am swayed by my current concerns . . . Would love to know what other think. Bonnie

Homer and Queen said...

I've missed you!

Ganeida said...

Another good pick though in general I avoid Poe. He gives me nightmares. ☺

As for that demon, is that not the narrator themself, or at least his view of the world? I don't get a sense of death from the poem, only being out of step with those around him & the sense that his view of life is twisted [demonic].

Alicia @ boylerpf said...

I haven't read this in years! I got as far as All I loved and realized it was Poe. He was always so dark but such a good read. Loved his Dream within a dream. Thanks for resurecting some of my gray cells!!

Sandra said...

Although Poe was obsessed with death I think this may be what Ganeida said. I am not a poetry buff, so I leave interruption to my betters!