Invictus
by William Ernest Henley; 1849-1903
Out of the night that covers me,
___Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
___For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance
___I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
___My head is bloody, but unbowed.
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
___Looms but the horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
___Finds, and shall find me, unafraid.
It matters not how strait the gate,
___How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate;
___I am the captain of my soul.
