I have been twenty four years on this earth,
Of misery there’s been no dearth.
From childhood I have not been
As others were, I have not seen
What others saw, I could not bring
My passions from a common spring.
My sorrow, I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone;
All I do, I do alone. There is a dawn
From most stormy lives dawn
From every depth of good and ill
The mystery, which binds me still.
From the torrent or the fountain
From the perilous cliffs of mountain,
From the sun that round me rolled
In its autumn tint of gold,
From the lightning in the sky,
All move me to cry.
From the thunder and the storm,
The cloud took the form;
It’s hell in my view
As sorrow breeds success in few.
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