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 ::
Had I the heavens’ embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half-light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet,
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams
:: William Butler Yeats ::
I’ve never really read poetry as I was growing up so it’s only natural that I don’t have a great appreciation of this literary style. But the above poem by William Butler Yeats is simply beautiful. I simply love the word play. It’s nice how the end of the first four lines end in ‘cloths’ and ‘light’ and the next four lines end in ‘feet’ and ‘dreams’. Apart from that, I really love the flow and meaning behind it. Beautiful!