Purpose

strong in thy steadfast purpose, be Like some brave master of the sea, Whose keel, by Titan pulses quickened, knows His will where’er he goes. Some isle, palm-roofed, in spiced Pacific air He seeks—though solitary zones apart, Its place long fixed on his deep-studied chart. Fierce winds, your wild confusion make! Waves, wroth with tide and tempest, shake His iron-wrought hull aside! However driven, to that far island fair (His compass not more faithful than his heart) He makes his path the ocean wide— His prow is always there!

Collection: 
English
John James Piatt

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