Literary Moustaches

Showcasing the world's greatest artists and their facial hair

Invictus
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 unbow’d. 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 (1849-1903)

Invictus

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 unbow’d.

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 (1849-1903)

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