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.
Meek Nature's evening comment on the shows That for oblivion take their daily birth From all the fuming vanities of earth.
The sunshine is a glorious birth; But yet I know, where'er I go, That there hath passed away a glory from the 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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