William Ernest Henley Poem by James McLain

This is the poem I would give a fingeon my hand
To be able to master.
I've many inspired by Sara Teasdale that
I have written where you would think that she wrote it
But this gentleman lived to be only fifty three
And wrote this most awesome poem yet to be written.
And it goes:



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.