I love nothing more than a good book. In fact, I've had my nose stuck in a book since I before I was able to read. Yet an increasingly crazy lifestyle means I have less and less time to devote to reading. I rediscovered one of my favorite poems recently and decided that in lieu of devouring piles and piles of novels, I can commit to reading one poem a week. Easy, right?
This first poem is nothing short of a battle cry, and perfectly fitting for kickstarting a Monday morning.
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 Ernest Henley