For now, how full, how deep, how vast the river
On which we glide, that stays its journey never!
As rolling years bring with them joy and woe,
Dark, and more various, seems our voyage to grow.
Buoyant we ride on waves of hope and joy,
Down, down, we sink, when earthly cares annoy!
Futile and vain, alike each hope or fear
On, on, we glide, there is no resting here.
For far behind is left each joy and woe,
The mighty river ne'er will cease to flow!