Out of the night that covers me
Black as the pit from pole to pole
I thank whatever gods there be
For my unconquorable 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 space 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.

- William Ernest Henley