Practice Recitation for from Ode:  Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Early Childhood by Williams Wordsworth

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 dail 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.