46 posted 3 years ago by rubadubpoopinthetub 3 years ago by rubadubpoopinthetub +46 / -0 39 comments share 39 comments share save hide report block hide replies
MOOD: 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 hearst hensley
I was thinking about this poem the other day. We had to memorize it in school when I was a kid. Thank you for posting it so I could see that I'd only forgotten a small part of it.