William Ernest Henley

(1849 - 1902 / Gloucester / England)

William Ernest Henley Poems

1. Since Those We Love And Those We Hate 2/18/2015
2. With Strawberries We Filled A Tray 12/16/2014
3. Tree, Old Tree Of The Triple Crook 4/12/2010
4. From A Window In Princes Street 4/12/2010
5. London Types: Beef-Eater 4/12/2010
6. London Types: The Artist Muses At His Ease 4/12/2010
7. London Types:Life-Guardsman 4/12/2010
8. Prologue 4/12/2010
9. Scrubber 4/12/2010
10. The Ways Are Green 4/12/2010
11. While The West Is Paling 4/12/2010
12. We Flash Across The Level 4/12/2010
13. To Me At My Fifth-Floor Window 4/12/2010
14. Staff Nurse: New Style 4/12/2010
15. London Types: 'Liza 4/12/2010
16. The Full Sea Rolls And Thunders 4/12/2010
17. London Types: Sandwich-Man 4/12/2010
18. Enter Patient 4/12/2010
19. Visitor 4/12/2010
20. In Fisherrow 4/12/2010
21. Staff Nurse:Old Style 4/12/2010
22. The Wan Sun Westers, Faint And Slow 4/12/2010
23. The Chief 4/12/2010
24. London Types: Mounted Police 4/12/2010
25. London Types: Drum-Major 4/12/2010
26. Fresh From His Fastnesses 4/12/2010
27. Not To The Staring Day 4/12/2010
28. Orientale 4/12/2010
29. House-Surgeon 4/12/2010
30. Villanelle 4/12/2010
31. Where Forlorn Sunsets Flare And Fade 4/12/2010
32. When The Wind Storms By With A Shout 4/12/2010
33. On The Way To Kew 4/12/2010
34. Music 4/12/2010
35. London Types: Hawker 4/12/2010
36. Space And Dread And The Dark 4/12/2010
37. Easy Is The Triolet 4/12/2010
38. Gull In An Aery Morrice 4/12/2010
39. Etching 4/12/2010
40. Discharged 4/12/2010
Best Poem of William Ernest Henley

Invictus

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.

Read the full of Invictus

There's A Regret

There's a regret
So grinding, so immitigably sad,
Remorse thereby feels tolerant, even glad. ...
Do you not know it yet?

For deeds undone
Rnakle and snarl and hunger for their due,
Till there seems naught so despicable as you
In all the grin o' the sun.

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