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.
Beneath the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody but unbowed.
It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishment the goal.
I am the master of my fate,
I am the captain of my soul.
-- William Ernst Henley