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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Read poems about / on: childhood, autumn, sorrow, spring, red, joy, heaven, alone, sky, sun, heart, life, passion

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  • Rookie - 211 Points Willian Menuci (10/10/2014 12:32:00 PM)

    I just love when a poem send shivers down my spine.
    That's what I think poetry is: make you feel what the poet was feeling when he wrote. (Report) Reply

  • Gold Star - 13,836 Points 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

  • Veteran Poet - 4,319 Points 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

    Rookie - 13 Points Ben Miller (10/22/2014 10:07:00 PM)

    The theme, to me, is less about a child who was excluded from normal child festivities and more about about a child who was inverted and could not enjoy normal in any form.

  • Rookie - 393 Points 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

  • Rookie - 75 Points 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

  • Rookie - 697 Points 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

  • Rookie - 27 Points 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

  • Veteran Poet - 4,555 Points * 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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