The poem
Unchanged within, to see all changed without, Is a blank lot and hard to bear, no doubt. Yet why at others' Wanings should'st thou fret ? Then only might'st thou feel a just regret, Hadst thou withheld thy love or hid thy light In selfish forethought of neglect and slight. O wiselier then, from feeble yearnings freed, While, and on whom, thou may'st--shine on ! nor heed Whether the object by reflected light Return thy radiance or absorb it quite : And tho' thou notest from thy safe recess Old Friends burn dim, like lamps in noisome air, Love them for what they are ; nor love them less, Because to thee they are not what they were.