But one way blows the wind.

An old sea-captain made reply
(His locks with salt-spray wet):
"'Tis not the wind decides the course;
'Tis way the sails are set."

* * * * *

I stand beside the sea of life;
The ships go sailing by;
The winds blow fair from heaven's land;
No clouds bedim the sky.

But one sails eastward, one sails west,
One north, one southward goes:
How can ships sail this way and that
With selfsame wind that blows?

A voice made answer to my soul:
"'Tis not how blows the gale;
Each voyager decides the goal
By way he sets the sail."--Selected.




How to Live a Holy Life