Like to a ship that storms urge on its course, By its own trials our soul is surer made. The very things that make the voyage worse Do make it better; its peril is its aid. And, as the storm drives from the storm, our heart Within the peril disimperilled grows; A port is near the more from port we part-- The port whereto our driven direction goes. If we reap knowledge to cross-profit, this From storms we learn, when the storm`s height doth drive-- That the black presence of its violence is The pushing promise of near far blue skies. Learn we but how to have the pilot-skill, And the storm`s very might shall mate our will.SourceThe script ran 0.001 seconds.
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