Ella Wheeler Wilcox (Элла Уилкокс)
Thy Ship
Hadst thou a ship, in whose vast hold lay stored The priceless riches of all climes and lands, Say, wouldst thou let it float upon the seas Unpiloted, of fickle winds the sport, And of wild waves and hidden rocks the prey? Thine is that ship; and in its depths concealed Lies 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 again Sent forth on idle quests to no-man’s land To carry nothing and to nothing bring; Till worn and fretted by the aimless strife And buffeted by vacillating winds It founders on a rock, or springs aleak With all its unused treasures in the hold. Go save thy ship, thou sluggard; take the wheel And steer to knowledge, glory and success. Great mariners have made the pathway plain For thee to follow; hold thou to the course Of Concentration Channel, and all things Shall come in answer to thy swerveless wish As comes the needle to the magnet’s call, Or sunlight to the prisoned blade of grass That yearns all winter for the kiss of spring.
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