The Horror of the Shade

“Invictus” by William Ernest Henley

Due to its brevity, I will reproduce the poem in full:

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.

.

I first noticed this poem scrawled across a wall at my university, and I’m finding that it’s beginning to exert a powerful impact upon my thoughts. But I’ll just let it speak for itself.