It was written by William Ernest Henley who, at the age of 12, fell victim to tuberculosis of the bone, a result of which he had his leg amputated below the knee later in his life. He wrote the poem Invictus, from a hospital bed later in his life, and went on to live a long and full life!
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.
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.
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.
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.
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.
I particularly love the final two lines. Have a wonderful, inspirational day!!
Bookie-bird
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