Whichever way the wind doth blow,
Some heart is glad to have it so;
Then blow it east, or blow it west,
The wind that blows, that wind is best.
My little craft sails not alone,--
A thousand fleets, from every zone,
Are out upon a thousand seas,
And what for me were favoring breeze
Might dash another with the shock
Of doom upon some hidden rock.
I leave it to a higher Will
To stay or speed me, trusting still
That all is well, and sure that He
Who launched my bark will sail with me
Through storm and calm, and will not fail,
Whatever breezes may prevail,
To land me, every peril past,
Within His Haven at the last.
Then blow it east, or blow it west,
The wind that blows, that wind is best.
_Caroline H. Mason._