What I just said, but in Wordsworth's language

I deem not profitless those fleeting moods
Of shadowy exultation;
...
the soul—
Remembering how she felt, but what she felt
Remembering not—retains an obscure sense
Of possible sublimity, to which
With growing faculties she doth aspire,
With faculties still growing, feeling still
That whatsoever point they gain they still
Have something to pursue. (Prelude [1805] 2.331-32, 334-41)

This is particularly nice because it resonates with a certain Hegelian formation of going-beyond. I also like that he links memory with "possible sublimity"--it's philosophically elegant.