‘Tis
the Set of the Sail
Ella Wheeler Wilcox 1916
Ella Wheeler Wilcox 1916
A way,
and a way, and away.
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 low,
And
every mid decideth,
The
way his soul shall go.
And
another West,
By the
self-same winds that blow,
‘Tis
the set of the sails
And no
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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