Invictus

Out of the night that covers me,
 Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods there 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 straight the gate,
 How charged with punishment the scroll
 I am the master of my fate,
 I am the captain of my soul!

William. E. Henley