‘Tis the Set of the Sail
But to every mind
there openeth,
A way, and a 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,
By the self-same
winds that blow,
‘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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