



| What though the radiance which was once so bright | 180 |
| Be now for ever taken from my sight, | |
| Though nothing can bring back the hour | |
| Of splendour in the grass, of glory in the flower; | |
| We will grieve not, rather find | |
| Strength in what remains behind; | 185 |
| In the primal sympathy | |
| Which having been must ever be; | |
| In the soothing thoughts that spring | |
| Out of human suffering; | |
| In the faith that looks through death, | 190 |
| In years that bring the philosophic mind. | |