Richard Watson Dixon (1833–1900)

THERE is a soul above the soul of each,

A mightier soul, which yet to each belongs:

There is a sound made of all human speech,

And numerous as the concourse of all songs:

And in that soul lives each, in each that soul,

Tho’ all the ages are its life-time vast;

Each soul that dies in its most sacred whole

Receiveth life that shall for ever last.

And thus for ever with a wider span

Humanity o’erarches time and death;

Man can elect the universal man

And live in life that ends not with his breath;

And gather glory that increases still

Till Time his glass with Death’s last dust shall fill.