by William Earnest Henley, 1875
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.
by Del Chambers, 2012 ©
Out of the light that illuminates,
The pitch-black sin that stains my soul,
I thank the one, eternal God,
For saving my wretched, wounded soul.
In life’s brutal circumstance,
I have often wept and cried aloud.
Under the rain of life’s harsh blows,
My only solace, in prayer, head bowed.
Beyond the suffering of this bleak life,
Lies my punishment or reward.
For I shall be charged to give account,
For all my deeds, to a righteous Lord.
It ever matters how strait the walk,
That we all purpose to our way;
But in the end, our deeds fall short;
By Jesus, only, may we be saved.