Ode: Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Early Childhood By William Wordsworth

There was a time when meadow, grove, and stream, The earth, and every common sight,  To me did seem  Apparelled in celestial light, The glory and the freshness of a dream. It is not now as it hath been of yore;— Turn wheresoe'er I may, By night or day. The things which I have seen I now can see no more.

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