The poem
I thought of Thee, my partner and my guide, As being past away. -Vain sympathies! For backward, Duddon! as I cast my eyes, I see what was, and is, and will abide; Still glides the Stream, and shall not cease to glide; The Form remains, the Function never dies; While we, the brave, the mighty, and the wise, We Men, who in our morn of youth defied The elements, must vanish; -be it so! Enough, if something from our hands have power To live, and act, and serve the future hour; And if, as toward the silent tomb we go, Through love, through hope, and faith's transcendent dower, We feel that we are greater than we know.