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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