Tis the Set of the Sails

But to every mind there openeth

A way, and way, and away

A high soul climbs the highway

And a 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 a low

And every mind decideth

The way his soul shall go

One ship sails East

And another West

By the self-same winds that blow

Tis' the set of the sails

And not 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

By: Ella Wheeler Wilcox