This image is best described in the words of William Wordsworth
in his poem—Ode to Imitations of Immortality:

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 in trailing clouds of glory do we come
From God, who is our home.

(Norton Anthology of World Literature, 2nd edition, ed. Sarah Lawall, volume E: 1800–1900, New York, 2002, 795.)