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'twas moontide of summer an mid-time of the night

And stars, in their orbits shone pale, through the night

Of the brighter, cold moon, lightning in the sky

Stars beam on the waves passed my flying by

Fromm 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

From the thunder and the storm,

And the cloud that took the form

Of a demon in my view

When the rest of Heaven was blue

Then- in my childhood, in the dawn

Of a most stormy life- was drawn

From every depth of good and ill

The mystery that 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

Flying by

Flying by

Alone