| 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. |
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