Men may seem sundered from each other;
but the soul that each possesses, and the destiny
common to all, invest them with a basic brotherhood.
There is a destiny that makes us brothers:
None goes his way alone:
All that we send into the lives of others
Comes back into our own.
I care not what his temples or his creeds,
One thing holds firm and fast
That into his fateful heap of days and
The soul of a man is cast.
From “Lincoln, and Other Poems.”