From childhood hours I have not been
As others I have not seen
As others saw I could not bring
My passions from a stormy spring
From the source I have not taken
My sorrow I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone
Since I lived ive lived alone
Then under the the tree in the dawn
Of a most stormy life was drawn
From every depth from good to ill
From all mystery that blinds me still
From the pillow to the fountain
From the black cliff to the mountian
From the sun that round me rolled
In its autumn tint of gold
From the lightning in the sky
And as it passed me flying by
From the thunder to the storm
And the cloud that took the form
 
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