Happy birthday, Bill.
1849–1903
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.
HemmingPlay 
This was my favorite poem. I love Henley’s strength. It saddened me to find out it was also Timothy McVeigh’s favorite poem. Sigh…
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Ooooo, I like that. (I need to read more poetry)
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A much more stirring and literate version of My Way.
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It is, isn’t it?
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