'Invictus' was one of the many poems we were required to memorize in 9th grade English. Of course, I can not extinguish the memory; it keeps ringing in my ears. 'Black as the night that covers me / Dark as the pit from pole to pole / I thank whatever gods may be / For my unconquerable soul.' But my life (thank God) has not been a dark, black pit, and as I read about present-day terrorism and the torture to which even US prisoners have been subjected, I doubt that anyone ultimately has - or should boast of - an unconquerable soul. I prefer Blake's quatrain from 'The Divine Image':
To Mercy, Pity, Peace, and Love
All pray in their distress;
And to these virtues of delight
Return their thankfulness.
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