When slanting sail slumps slack,
why blame the wayward breeze
that hears not curse or prayer.
You chose the course and tack,
and begged the God of Seas
to send you clement air.
Who said that sturdy gale,
would straight and constant last
while fickle sea you roam.
Was it wind who dared you sail,
in seas that calmed too fast,
to see you quickly home.