William Ernest Henley

(1849 - 1902 / Gloucester / England)

William Ernest Henley Poems

1. A Child 4/12/2010
2. A Dainty Thing's The Villanelle 4/12/2010
3. A Desolate Shore 4/12/2010
4. A Late Lark Twitters From The Quiet Skies 4/12/2010
5. A Love By The Sea 4/12/2010
6. A New Song To An Old Tune 4/12/2010
7. A Thanksgiving 4/12/2010
8. A Wink From Hesper 4/12/2010
9. After 4/12/2010
10. Allegro Maestoso 4/12/2010
11. Andante Con Moto 4/12/2010
12. Anterotics 4/12/2010
13. Anterotics 4/12/2010
14. Apparition 4/12/2010
15. Arabian Night's Entertainments 4/12/2010
16. As Like The Woman As You Can 4/12/2010
17. At Queensferry 4/12/2010
18. Attadale, West Highlands 4/12/2010
19. Ave, Caesar! 4/12/2010
20. Back-View 4/12/2010
21. Ballade Made In The Hot Weather 4/12/2010
22. Ballade Of A Toyokuni Colour-Print 4/12/2010
23. Ballade Of Dead Actors 1/3/2003
24. Ballade Of Midsummer Days And Nights 4/12/2010
25. Ballade Of Truisms 4/12/2010
26. Ballade Of Youth And Age 4/12/2010
27. Barmaid 1/3/2003
28. Before 4/12/2010
29. Beside The Idle Summer Sea 4/12/2010
30. Between The Dusk Of A Summer Night 1/1/2004
31. Blithe Dreams Arise To Greet Us 4/12/2010
32. Bring Her Again, O Western Wind 4/12/2010
33. Casualty 4/12/2010
34. Children: Private Ward 4/12/2010
35. Clinical 4/12/2010
36. Croquis 1/3/2003
37. Crosses And Troubles 4/12/2010
38. Dedication--To My Wife 4/12/2010
39. Discharged 4/12/2010
40. Double Ballad Of Life And Death 4/12/2010
Best Poem of William Ernest Henley

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.

Read the full of Invictus

Ballade Of Dead Actors

Where are the passions they essayed,
And where the tears they made to flow?
Where the wild humours they portrayed
For laughing worlds to see and know?
Othello's wrath and Juliet's woe?
Sir Peter's whims and Timon's gall?
And Millamant and Romeo?
Into the night go one and all.
Where are the braveries, fresh or frayed?

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