I apologize for any weird formatting, Reddit doesn’t seem to like my phone…

    (Note: this poem is actually longer, but my fav part is the second half shown here)

    One ship sails East,
    And another West,
    By the self-same winds that blow,
    'Tis the set of the sails
    And not the gales,
    That tells the way we go.

    Like the winds of the sea
    Are the waves of time,
    As we journey along through life,
    'Tis the set of the soul,
    That determines the goal,
    And not the calm or the strife.

    • Tis the Set of the Sail (Ella Wheeler Wilcox)

    If you can’t be a pine on the top of the hill,
    Be a scrub in the valley but be

    The best little scrub by the side of the rill;
    Be a bush if you can’t be a tree.

    If you can’t be a bush be a bit of the grass,
    And some highway happier make;

    If you can’t be a Muskie then just be a bass
    But the liveliest bass in the lake!

    We can’t all be captains, we’ve got to be crew,
    There’s something for all of us here,

    There’s big work to do, and there’s lesser to do,
    And the task you must do is the near.

    If you can’t be a highway then just be a trail,
    If you can’t be the sun be a star;

    It isn’t by size that you win or you fail
    Be the best of whatever you are!

    • Be the Best at Whatever you are (Douglas Malloch)

    This one I actually like video format most, that’s where I had first encountered it, but it’s a famous poem so I imagine lots of you know it:

    There’s one more that I barely remember that I will try to track down and add as a comment later

    If you have any favs, down to hear some. And I’m a sucker for anything inspirational but any mood works

    by randomhero1024

    3 Comments

    1. randomhero1024 on

      Tracked down another fav:

      Did you tackle that trouble that came your way With a resolute heart and cheerful? Or hide your face from the light of day With a craven soul and fearful? Oh, a trouble’s a ton, or a trouble’s an ounce, Or a trouble is what you make it, And it isn’t the fact that you’re hurt that counts, But only how did you take it?

      You are beaten to earth? Well, well, what’s that? Come up with a smiling face. It’s nothing against you to fall down flat, But to lie there — that’s disgrace. The harder you’re thrown, why the higher you bounce; Be proud of your blackened eye! It isn’t the fact that you’re licked that counts, It’s how did you fight — and why?

      And though you be done to the death, what then? If you battled the best you could, If you played your part in the world of men, Why, the Critic will call it good. Death comes with a crawl, or comes with a pounce, And whether he’s slow or spry, It isn’t the fact that you’re dead that counts, But only how did you die?

      How Did You Die (Edmund Vance Cook)

    2. Feisty_Extreme1345 on

      “Tis the Set of the Sail” is such a powerful reminder that our direction in life is shaped by our own choices and attitudes. I love how it emphasizes that it’s not the external conditions but our internal resolve that steers our course.

      The second poem, “Be the Best at Whatever You Are,” is a fantastic message about finding value in every role, no matter how small it seems. It’s a great reminder that every contribution matters and that being our best self is what truly counts.

      I’ll definitely check out the video of *If* by Rudyard Kipling—thanks for sharing it! If you’re into inspirational stuff, you might also enjoy *The Road Not Taken* by Robert Frost. It’s another classic that always gets me thinking.

    3. Here’s the text of the third: “If”, by Rudyard Kipling

      If you can keep your head when all about you   
          Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,   
      If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
          But make allowance for their doubting too;   
      If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
          Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
      Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,
          And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:

      If you can dream—and not make dreams your master;   
          If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim;   
      If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
          And treat those two impostors just the same;   
      If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
          Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
      Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
          And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools:

      If you can make one heap of all your winnings
          And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
      And lose, and start again at your beginnings
          And never breathe a word about your loss;
      If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
          To serve your turn long after they are gone,   
      And so hold on when there is nothing in you
          Except the Will which says to them: ‘Hold on!’

      If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,   
          Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch,
      If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
          If all men count with you, but none too much;
      If you can fill the unforgiving minute
          With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,   
      Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,   
          And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!

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