A debilitating case of tuberculosis of the bone saw Henley in pain for many years. His contemporaries saw him as an inspiration. Even those who did not get along with his views as editor of the National Observer, such as William Butler Yeats, praised him, "I disagreed with him about everything, but I admired him beyond words." Read Invictus with this in mind and see if you can not now feel more powerfully the truth behind the ink.
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 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
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