William Ernest Henley

(1849 - 1902 / Gloucester / England)

William Ernest Henley Poems

161. If I Were King 1/3/2003
162. Margaritae Sorori 1/4/2003
163. Ballade Of Dead Actors 1/3/2003
164. The Rain And The Wind 1/3/2003
165. A Wink From Hesper 4/12/2010
166. Madam Life's A Piece In Bloom 1/3/2003
167. A Child 4/12/2010
168. Between The Dusk Of A Summer Night 1/1/2004
169. It Came With The Threat Of A Waning Moon 4/12/2010
170. I Am The Reaper 1/1/2004
171. O Gather Me The Rose 1/3/2003
172. A Love By The Sea 4/12/2010
173. Invictus 1/3/2003
Best Poem of 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 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


Though, if you ask her name, she says Elise,
Being plain Elizabeth, e'en let it pass,
And own that, if her aspirates take their ease,
She ever makes a point, in washing glass,
Handling the engine, turning taps for tots,
And countering change, and scorning what men say,
Of posing as a dove among the pots,
Nor often gives her dignity away.
Her head's a work of art, and, if her eyes

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