Who reverenced his conscience as his king,
Whose glory was redressing human wrong,
Who spake no slander, no nor listened to it,
We have lost him, he is gone—
We know him now—and we see him as he moved,
How modest, kindly, all accomplished, wise,
With what sublime repression of himself—
And in what limits, and how tenderly—
Now swaying to this faction or to that—
But through all this tract of years