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Invictus. By William Ernest Henley. 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.
Invictus. " Invictus " is a short poem by the Victorian era British poet William Ernest Henley (1849–1903). Henley wrote it in 1875, and in 1888 he published it in his first volume of poems, Book of Verses, in the section titled "Life and Death (Echoes)". Background. William Ernest Henley.
- United Kingdom
- 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.
Text of the Poem. 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.
LitCharts. Get the entire guide to “Invictus” as a printable PDF. Download. The Full Text of “Invictus” 1 Out of the night that covers me, 2 Black as the pit from pole to pole, 3 I thank whatever gods may be. 4 For my unconquerable soul. 5 In the fell clutch of circumstance. 6 I have not winced nor cried aloud. 7 Under the bludgeonings of chance.
‘Invictus’ is W.E. Henley’s most famous and inspirational poem, that resonates with people worldwide. He wrote the poem in 1875 and dedicated it to Scottish flour merchant named Robert Thomas Hamilton Bruce. Read Poem. William Ernest Henley. Nationality: English.
Invictus. By William Ernest Henley. 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.
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