but tu every mind there openeth,
a way, and a wa, and away.
a high soul climbs the highway,
and the low soul gropes the low,
and in bettween on the misty flats,
the rest drift to and fro.
but to every man there openth,
a high way and a low,
and every mind decideth,
the way his soal shall go.
one ship sails east,
and onother west,
by the self same winds that blow,
tis the set of the sails
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 calmor the strife.
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