Oh, how I love this poem


From Wordsworth, “Ode: Intimation of Immortality”

Our Birth is but a sleep and a forgetting:

The soul that rises with us, our life’s Star,

Hath had elsewhere its setting,

And cometh from afar:

Not in entire forgetfulness,

And not in utter nakedness,

But trailing clouds of glory do we come.

From God, who is our home.

Heaven lies about us in our infancy!

2 Responses to “Oh, how I love this poem”

  1. Marielle Willour Says:

    I need to to thank you for this very good read!! I definitely loved every bit of it. I have you book marked to look at new things you post…

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