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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 lovd, I lovd alone.
Then in my childhood in the dawn
Of a most stormy life was drawn
From evry 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 rolld
 In its autumn tint of gold
 From the lightning in the sky
As it passd 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.



  Elizabeth it is in vain you say
"Love not" � thou sayest it in so sweet a way:
In vain those words from thee or L. E. L.
Zantippe's talents had enforced so well:
Ah! if that language from thy heart arise,
Breathe it less gently forth � and veil thine eyes.
Endymion, recollect, when Luna tried
To cure his love � was cured of all beside �
His folly � pride � and passion � for he died.



Elizabeth � it surely is most fit
    (Logic and common usage so commanding)
In thy own book that first thy name be writ,
    Zeno and other sages notwithstanding :
And I have other reasons for so doing
    Besides my innate love of contradiction :
Each poet � if a poet � in pursuing
    The muses thro' their bowers of Truth or Fiction,
Has studied very little of his part,
    Read nothing, written less � in short's a fool
Endued with neither soul, nor sense, nor art,
    Being ignorant of one important rule,
Employed in even the theses of the school �
   Called �� I forget the heathenish Greek name �
(Called any thing, its meaning is the same)
   "Always write first things uppermost in the heart"



  It was my choice or chance or curse
To adopt the cause for better or worse
And with my worldly goods & wit
And soul & body worship it