I came across this short Victorian poem by the English poet William Ernest Henley (1849–1903) while fooling around the Net. Struck by the last two lines of the poem, I googled about the poet.
Apparently he was struck by tuberculosis of the bone at a very young age and had to have his leg amputated at the age of 25.
(Note to self : Do NOT complain the next time I can’t find the size of my must-have shoes of the moment).
He wrote this poem on his hospital bed.
I must say, I admire his creative juices! He could come up with A Few Good Lines from a position of what I believe must have been quite uncomfortable. I imagine hospitals beds in the 19th century could not have been as comfortable as a cushy Starbucks armchair.
I have plonked my ass here (i.e Starbucks, not a 19th century hospital bed) for quite some time, with my favorite cup of soy green latte and all I could do was cut and paste HIS words onto my blog and voila! MY Few Good Lines For The Day..
Anyway, an ode to you Mr Henley sir, a job well done ole chap!
I am the captain of my soul indeed.
*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 (1849–1903)
Check out ‘IF’ by Rudyard Kipling. That’s one of my favourites