‘Tis the set of the Sail
Ella Wheeler Wilcox 1916
A
way, and way, and a way.
A
high soul climbs the highway,
And
the low soul gropes the low,
And
in between on the misty flats,
The
rest drift to and fro.
But
to every man there openeth,
A
high way and a low,
And
every mind decideth,
The
way his soul shall go
One ship sails East,
And another West,
'Tis the set of the sails
And not the gales,
That tells the way we go.
Like the winds of the sea
Are the waves of time,
As we journey along through life,
'tis the set of the soul,
That determines the goal,
And not the calm or the strife.
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