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,
At length the man perceives it die away
And fade into the light of common day.


PHOTO CREDIT : VIKTOR FORGACS
Bookmark (0)
ClosePlease loginn

 

Affiliate Disclosure: Some of the links or advertisements in the wordket website are affiliate links or advertisements, meaning, at no additional cost to you. We will earn a commission, if you click through and make a purchase. Thank you 🙂

Leave a Reply

You May Also Like
Read More

The Lone Mystery

As the lone, frighted user of a night-road Suddenly turns round, nothing to detect, Yet on his fear’s…
Read More

Waiting

I stand here, alone, always looking for you, waiting for the bye, from the time you left. My…