This is the blog of an English major.

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!
Shades of the prison-house begin to close
Upon the growing Boy,
But He beholds the light, and whence it flows,
He sees it in his joy;
The Youth, who daily farther from the east
Must travel, still is Nature’s Priest,
And by the vision splendid
Is on his way attended;
At length the Man perceives it die away,
And Fade into the light of common day.

–William Wordsworth, stanza 5 of Intimations of Immortality

Remember my post about The Reluctant King and embracing our God-given glory? Well, I had to read this poem for my British Literature class, and I geeked out over this stanza, writing “original glory” in the margins: “I daresay we’ve heard a bit about original sin, but not nearly enough about original glory, which comes before sin and is deeper to our nature. We were crowned with glory and honor (psalm 8:5).” — John Eldredge, Waking the Dead

Dear one, child of God, please don’t forget it. <3