The child is father of the man.

In years that bring the philosophic mind.

Like thoughts whose very sweetness yielded proof that they were born for immortality.

Not in Utopia, -- subterranean fields, --Or some secreted island, Heaven knows whereBut in the very world, which is the worldOf all of us, -- the place where in the endWe find our happiness, or not at all

What we have loved Others will love And we will teach them how.

But trailing clouds of glory do we come, From God, who is our home: Heaven lies about us in our infancy!.

... and we shall find A pleasure in the dimness of the stars.