Grandpa's Poem

This is a poem my grandpa stout wrote. Its wonderful.

I well remember then
When fiber strained
Against the winds of truth....
When sails were set
To storm capped seas
On unfamiliar routes....
Then, A chant was found
A course was set
Away from hidden shoals
Sail on to port
To anchor fast
And rest within my soul.
Now, My ship sails right
On compass point
True light ahead my goal....
Sail on to port
To hug at last
The king of my own soul.