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.
Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting. Not in entire forgetfulness, and not in utter nakedness, but trailing clouds of glory do we come.
The sunshine is a glorious birth; But yet I know, where'er I go, That there hath passed away a glory from the earth.
Meek Nature's evening comment on the shows That for oblivion take their daily birth From all the fuming vanities of earth.
Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting.
The softest breeze to fairest flowers gives birth: Think not that Prudence dwells in dark abodes, She scans the future with the eye of gods.
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