“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, Ode: Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Early Childhood. Found in Poets & Poems, Goldstone & Cummings, 1967.