Out of the night that covers me, black as a pit from pole to pole;
I thank whatever gods may be, for my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstances, 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 punishment the scroll.
I am master of my fate; I am captain of my soul.