INVICTUS
| Out of the night that covers me, Black as a 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 still finds 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. |