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.


William Ernest Henley. 1849–1903




I needed to re-read this tonight. It reminds me of possibilities and of walking into the future unafraid and in charge.

  • Mary Ann Potter 6y

    This is gorgeous, Tracy! Thanks for including the poem, too; I haven't read it since high school, and that was almost 50 years ago!
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Taken on January 15, 2007
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