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.

                  -Edgar Allen Poe

As most know, Poe is known for his dark side and some what morbid humor. I don't blame him with the family history he has. Many of his family members have died of Tuberculosis, married his cousin who died of consumption. He wrote these words, "Deep in earth my love is lying and I must weep alone." The death of his wife devastated him and he was left in a prolonged melancholy state, which shows through many of his writings.

I believe Poe's morbid humor is sensed slightly in this piece. Lines 1-17 are describing his loneliness in the world and how he differs from everyone else. The imagery that his words give a chipper feel. Lines 11-16 specifically. The "fountain" and "red mountain" and "sun" and "autumn tint of gold." He sets up the world around him beautifully but shows himself in the opposite. I catch ironic humor, slightly sullen.

The last three lines of the poem create a synecdoche. After describing the beautiful surroundings he explains that they pass him by. "(When the rest of Heaven was blue)" When thinking about death, and feeling so minuscule when looking at the large sky, every ones heaven was blue but when Poe looks up, thinking of heaven, all he can summon is a demon in his view. This emphasizes the difference he senses between him and the rest of the world.

The poem flows well with the rhythm pattern and because it is one large stanza. Chopping it up into multiple would create rough brakes and damage the imagery, I believe.