Black as the 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 change

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 year

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.

Invictus by William Ernest Henley