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Alone - Edgar Allan Poe (Powerful Life Poetry)
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Read by Shane Morris
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Edgar Allan Poe was an American writer, poet, critic and editor best known for evocative short stories and poems that captured the imagination and interest of readers around the world.
Alone’ is often considered Poe’s most revealing work and with good reason. Here the tormented mind of the literary genius is pulled back and we have a glimpse into the early hours of an abrupt and troubled life.
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Full Poem:
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 lov’d - I lov’d alone –
Then - in my childhood - in the dawn
Of a most stormy life - was drawn
From ev’ry 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 roll’d
In its autumn tint of gold -
From the lightning in the sky
As it pass’d 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 Allan Poe was an American writer, poet, critic and editor best known for evocative short stories and poems that captured the imagination and interest of readers around the world.
Alone’ is often considered Poe’s most revealing work and with good reason. Here the tormented mind of the literary genius is pulled back and we have a glimpse into the early hours of an abrupt and troubled life.
-
Full Poem:
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 lov’d - I lov’d alone –
Then - in my childhood - in the dawn
Of a most stormy life - was drawn
From ev’ry 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 roll’d
In its autumn tint of gold -
From the lightning in the sky
As it pass’d 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 -
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