At Best

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The faithful helm commands the keel, From port to port fair breezes blow; But the ship must sail the convex sea, Nor may she straighter go. So, man to man; in fair accord, On thought and will the winds may wait; But the world will bend the passing word, Though its shortest course be straight. From soul to soul the shortest line At best will bended be: The ship that holds the straightest course Still sails the convex sea.

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