Ode

Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting; 
The Soul that rises with us, our life's Star 
Hath had elsewhere in 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.
                                  
                                       - William Wordsworth