NOT the pilot has charged himself to bring his ship into port, though <br /> beaten back, and many times baffled; <br /> Not the path-finder, penetrating inland, weary and long, <br /> By deserts parch'd, snows-chill'd, rivers wet, perseveres till he <br /> reaches his destination, <br /> More than I have charged myself, heeded or unheeded, to compose a <br /> free march for These States, <br /> To be exhilarating music to them--a battle-call, rousing to arms, if <br /> need be--years, centuries hence.<br /><br />Walt Whitman<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/not-the-pilot/
