INVICTUS by William Ernst 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.
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.
I learned the poem in the seventh grade, about the height of my teenage angst, hormonally, at the same time as I learned "The Highwayman" and "The Wreck of the Hesprerus." Our teacher insisted that Henley cribbed it from Marcus Aureliius. I confess that Marcus Aurelius Antoninus is my favorite Roman emperor. Sir Aleck Guiness made him Obi Wan Kenobi. Tangentially, see here about my computer science instructor: http://necessaryfacts.blogspot.com/20...