poem by Ella wheeler wilcox

‘tis the set of the sail

Ella wheeler Wilcox 1916

But to every mind there openeth,

A way, and a way, and away.

And the low soul gropes the low,

The rest drift to and fro,

But to every man there openeth,                                                              

A high way and low,                                                               

And every mind decideth,                                                           

The way his soul shall go.                                                             

Open ship sails east,      

And another west,

By the self-same winds that blow,

‘tis the set of the sails

And not the gale that tells the way 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 determined the goal,

And not the calm or the strife.