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