Recollection

The Rainbow comes and goes,     And lovely is the Rose,     The Moon doth with delight Look round her when the heavens are bare,     Waters on a starry night     Are beautiful and fair; The sunshine is a glorious birth; But yet I know, where'er I go, That there hath past away a glory from the earth. -William Wordsworth (1770-1850), Ode: Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Early Childhood