Tuesday 25 October 2011

Invictus William Ernest Henley (1849–1903)

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 punishment the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Fishing Boats on the Beach at Saintes-Maries-De-La-Mer (On Van Gogh's painting) 
- Jude Goodwin

One of these boats carried Mary,     put to sea by the Romans,     the crying woman, hands wrapped with rags     that smell of myrrh. And...