This poem from Edgar A. Poe is called : Alone.

I just wrote the 8 first verses. Taken from a book containing all of his works I bought in Montreal, way back in 1986. I'll write the rest of his poem if you wish to :

"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."

Ty for sharing it !

Starbuck

Born in 1963 of French mom and Canadian dad. Studied a lot (Majors in History, Theology, M.A. in Sociology). Jobless for now. Just been diagnosed Borderline.

I wonder where it will go from here... But I'll try nonetheless.