William Ernest Henley
William Ernest Henley Poems
|161.||We Shall Surely Die||4/12/2010|
|162.||We'Ll Go No More A-Roving||4/12/2010|
|163.||What Have I Done For You||4/12/2010|
|164.||What Is To Come||4/12/2010|
|165.||When The Wind Storms By With A Shout||4/12/2010|
|166.||When You Are Old||4/12/2010|
|167.||When You Wake In Your Crib||4/12/2010|
|168.||Where Forlorn Sunsets Flare And Fade||4/12/2010|
|169.||While The West Is Paling||4/12/2010|
|170.||Why, My Heart, Do We Love Her So?||4/12/2010|
|171.||With Strawberries We Filled A Tray||12/16/2014|
|172.||You Played And Sang A Snatch Of Song||4/12/2010|
|173.||Your Heart Has Trembled To My Tongue||4/12/2010|
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.
If I Were King
If I were king, my pipe should be premier.
The skies of time and chance are seldom clear,
We would inform them all with bland blue weather.
Delight alone would need to shed a tear,
For dream and deed should war no more together.
Art should aspire, yet ugliness be dear;
Beauty, the shaft, should speed with wit for feather;
And love, sweet love, should never fall to sere,