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.
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