Nihil est in intellectu, quod non fuerit in sensu, nisi ipse 



intellectus. — Leibnitz : Nouveaux Essais. 



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, 

 Buf trailing clouds of glory, do we come 



From God, who is our home. 



Wokdswokth: Ode on Immortality. 



