Invictus

by William Earnest Henley

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever God may be,
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance,
I have not cried nor winced aloud,
Under the bludgeoning 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 straight the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the captain of my fate,
I am the master of my soul.

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