THY SHIPHadst thou a ship, in whose vast hold lay storedThe priceless riches of all climes and lands,Say, wouldst thou let it float upon the seasUnpiloted, of fickle winds the sport,And of wild waves and hidden rocks the prey?Thine is that ship; and in its depths concealedLies all the wealth of this vast universe—Yea, lies some part of God’s omnipotence,The legacy divine of every soul.Thy will, O man, thy will is that great ship,And yet behold it drifting here and there—One moment lying motionless in port,Then on high seas by sudden impulse flung,Then drying on the sands, and yet againSent forth on idle quests to no-man’s landTo carry nothing and to nothing bring;Till, worn and fretted by the aimless strifeAnd buffeted by vacillating winds,It founders on a rock, or springs a leak,With all its unused treasures in the hold.Go save thy ship, thou sluggard; take the wheelAnd steer to knowledge, glory, and success.Great mariners have made the pathway plainFor thee to follow; hold thou to the courseOf Concentration Channel, and all thingsShall come in answer to thy swerveless wishAs comes the needle to the magnet’s call,Or sunlight to the prisoned blade of grassThat yearns all winter for the kiss of spring.
Hadst thou a ship, in whose vast hold lay storedThe priceless riches of all climes and lands,Say, wouldst thou let it float upon the seasUnpiloted, of fickle winds the sport,And of wild waves and hidden rocks the prey?
Thine is that ship; and in its depths concealedLies all the wealth of this vast universe—Yea, lies some part of God’s omnipotence,The legacy divine of every soul.Thy will, O man, thy will is that great ship,And yet behold it drifting here and there—One moment lying motionless in port,Then on high seas by sudden impulse flung,Then drying on the sands, and yet againSent forth on idle quests to no-man’s landTo carry nothing and to nothing bring;Till, worn and fretted by the aimless strifeAnd buffeted by vacillating winds,It founders on a rock, or springs a leak,With all its unused treasures in the hold.
Go save thy ship, thou sluggard; take the wheelAnd steer to knowledge, glory, and success.Great mariners have made the pathway plainFor thee to follow; hold thou to the courseOf Concentration Channel, and all thingsShall come in answer to thy swerveless wishAs comes the needle to the magnet’s call,Or sunlight to the prisoned blade of grassThat yearns all winter for the kiss of spring.