o 






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. 




o