Before me grew the human soul, And after I am dead and gone, Through grades of effort and control The marvellous work shall still go on. Each mortal in his little span Hath only lived, if he have shown What greatness there can be in man Above the measured and the known; How through the ancient layers of night, In gradual victory secure, Grows ever with increasing light The Energy serene and pure: The Soul, that from a monstrous past, From age to age, from hour to hour, Feels upward to some height at last Of unimagined grace and power. Though yet the sacred fire be dull, In folds of thwarting matter furled, Ere d**h be nigh, while life is full, O Master Spirit of the world, Grant me to know, to seek, to find, In some small measure though it be, Emerging from the waste and blind, The clearer self, the grander me!