INVICTUS

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 bludgeoning of chance

My head is bloody, but unbowed.
Beyond the 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 straight the gate,

How charged with punishment the scroll,

I am the master of my fate;

I am the captain of my soul.

.

William Ernest Henly