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 …showed first 75 words of 484 total…

…showed last 75 words of 484 total…poem from making much sense if read out loud, as you can't exactly read out brackets. It has to be seen on paper to be made sense of. The imagery portrayed in the last stanza puts a picturesque view in your head, and then starkly contrasts with the dark 'demon cloud'. Review: I love Edgar Allan Poe's poetry, and his stories such as The Tell Tale Heart. His poems are so gloomy they intrigue me.