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William Wordsworth: Our birth is...

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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

Source: Ode: Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Early Childhood.
-- William Wordsworth, (Apr 7 1770-1850), English poet; His Lyrical Ballads, 1798 are noted for their worship of nature and humanitarianism; poet laureate, 1843-50.


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