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by: William Earnest 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 thy fell clutch of circumstance,

I have not winced nor cried aloud

Under the bludgeonings of chance

My head is bloody, yet 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 punishment the scroll

I am the master of my fate.

I am the captain of my soul.


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