For favoring winds to fill its silken sail.
If you would ever leave these drowsy shores
Your crew must sweep the waters from their oars.
To win the Blessed Headland o'er the main,
But tireless strength and effort will avail."

I gazed adown the barge; the silent men
Toyed with their oars, awaiting my command;
The first was "Courage"--quick to see and dare,
And next came "Patience," he as ready e'er
To calm an angry brow to peace, and then
Came "Justice"--"Knowledge" sat at his right hand.

I held the rudder. No hand but mine own
Could guide the mystic barge across the sea.
But in the bow stood "Faith," whose vision keen
Discerns what mortal eye hath never seen,
And when a mist across the deep is blown,
Sendeth sweet messages of hope to me.

Why tarry ye, O men? the way is long
To yonder hazy Headland's wave-worn base.
We wait in vain for favoring winds to blow,
'Tis yours to pull the oars. Row, bravely, row,
Keep even stroke, ye merry hearts, with song,
And lead the swift sea-birds a winning race.

The willing oarsmen heard the words, and bent
Them to the toil; but "Knowledge" had not heard,
And still he dreamed upon his trailing oar,