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.
--William Earnest Henley
2 comments:
I love this poem! Adam is a bit of a poetry buff and has this one memorized. Sometimes at night I'll make him recite this one to me as I gaze into his eyes and fall in love with him again.
*siiiiiiiiiigh* Sarah, that is nothing less than wonderful.
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