Treasure Island

Edgar Allan Poe

(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849 / Boston)

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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.

Submitted: Tuesday, December 31, 2002

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  • Aftab Alam Khursheed (9/6/2014 9:52:00 AM)

    Poets have macro and micro view that's the difference of vision ..Away from the common path and the eyes make a poet Poe the famous bard ... (Report) Reply

  • Frank Avon (9/3/2014 2:16:00 AM)

    I've kept trying to find a Poe poem that I could genuinely say I liked. This almost makes it. This time his bouncy rhythms and punchy rhymes are tempered by enjambment. If one reads this aloud - as sentences, not as lines - then the sounds are subtler and the rhymes are subjugated to sense. The theme, it seems to me, is the despondency of the child who is a loner, an outsider in his family/school/community, alienated from his peers. I had similar childhood experiences. Fortunately - providentially I am brought to say -, I found friends who helped me and mentors who guided me, so that I escaped the poet's most stormy life. I am thankful to my God. (Report) Reply

  • Michelle Claus (6/9/2014 10:33:00 AM)

    Hauntingly conveyed. Many of us poets and writers deeply comprehend Alone. Thank goodness for poetry and literature, to give us a realm in which we can feel connected. (Report) Reply

  • Dea Dear (4/29/2014 5:18:00 AM)

    when i red this 86324poem i wrote these two lines from my childhood i have not been, , , , , , happy but that doese not mean , , , , , , , i was on this planet without aim, , , , , , , , my great hope is my creator name (Report) Reply

  • Taylor Kilgour (2/21/2014 4:06:00 PM)

    Let's face it, 'Alone' is one of the greatest, most powerful, deep and meaningful poems of all time. (Report) Reply

  • Valentin Savin (2/21/2014 1:25:00 AM)

    I love the poem so much, because it reminds me of my own childhood. My father left my mother when I was six y.o. and I was brought by stepmother. I can't say she was bad. She was just alien to me. I did'nt wish to call her mother and was bitten by my father. There were three of us children. Myself, my sister and my stepbrother. I was always guilty if anything went wrong with us children and was always to blame. I was sort of introvert and different from others. I felt myself alone and abandoned. So much for that. The thing is I've translated the poem into my own toungue - Russian. And I hope that my countrymen will be able to understand and appreciate Poe's poems. (Report) Reply

  • Ed Nigma (1/9/2014 1:15:00 AM)

    And the cloud that took the form of a demon in my view, (When the rest of heaven was blue) . When I read this I get the feeling the color blue is the shade a person turns when they have died. Double meaning being the color of sky. A cloud taking form of a demon to me seems like the creator isn't visible in his present situation hence why heaven was blue (dead) and all he sees is evil being manifested as the cloud transforms into a demon so to speak. I like those few lines a lot. (Report) Reply

  • * Sunprincess * (1/6/2014 9:39:00 PM)

    .......this poem causes me to wonder if he was an only child...
    it is a poem of childhood wonder and mystery
    ~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: ~ (Report) Reply

Read all 169 comments »

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