Compass and chart are in thy hand: roadstead and rocks thou knowest;
Thou art warned of reefs and shallows; thou beholdest the harbour and its lights.
What? shall thy wantonness or sloth drive the gallant vessel on the breakers?
What? shall the helmsman's hand wear upon the black lee shore?
Vain is that excuse; thou canst escape: thy mind is responsible for wrong:
Vain that murmur; thou mayst live: thy soul is debtor for the right.
To-day, in the voyage of thy life down the dark tide of time,
Stand boldly to thy tiller, guide thee by the pole-star, and be safe;
To-day, passing near the sunken rocks, the quicksands and whirlpools of probation,
Leave awhile the rudder to swing round, give the wind its heading, and be wrecked.