And I have earned it, though my quest should fail!
For, mark me well, the honour of our life
Derives from this: to have a certain aim
Before us always, which our will must seek
Amid the peril of uncertain ways.
Then, though we miss the goal, our search is crowned
With courage, and we find along our path
A rich reward of unexpected things.
Press towards the aim: take fortune as it fares!

I know not why, but something in my heart
Has always whispered, "Westward seek your goal!"
Three times they sent me east, but still I turned
The bowsprit west, and felt among the floes
Of ruttling ice along the Greenland coast,
And down the rugged shore of Newfoundland,
And past the rocky capes and wooded bays
Where Gosnold sailed,--like one who feels his way
With outstretched hand across a darkened room,--
I groped among the inlets and the isles,
To find the passage to the Land of Spice.
I have not found it yet,--but I have found
Things worth the finding!
Son, have you forgot
Those mellow autumn days, two years ago,
When first we sent our little ship _Half-Moon_,--
The flag of Holland floating at her peak,--
Across a sandy bar, and sounded in
Among the channels, to a goodly bay
Where all the navies of the world could ride?