The spirit firm and swelling soul
Are heart of noble self-control,
Sources of power transmuting danger
To clarion-call to the man as whole.
‘ Tis courage helms the bark that's tost
By wild typhoon, or swept by frost,
While sailing life's surprising ocean,—
Strike sail to fear and the bark is lost.
O muse, thou sing'st no siren strain
To him who plows this heaven-domed main!
Thy starry eyes look down all-wistful
On souls that toy with a tangled skein.