My head is bloody but unbowed

[julythirtyfirst]

INVICTUS
William Ernest Henley

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 fine 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.