Ode to Songbirds

"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 coulds of glory do we come From God, who is our home..." - William Wordsworth, "Ode: Intimations of Immortality"