Our Search For Happiness

I have been in love with this poem this week.

William Wordsworth- “Ode on Intimations of Immortality”

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.

-The picture is of Sister Gardner in a small Book Swap Booth-

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