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    Invictus
    by William Ernest Henly

    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 punishment the scroll,
    I am the master of my fate:
        I am the captain of my soul.

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