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.
No comments:
Post a Comment