Invictus
By William
Ernest
Henley
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.
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