William Ernest Henley

(1849 - 1902 / Gloucester / England)

William Ernest Henley Poems

41. The Skies Are Strown With Stars 4/12/2010
42. The Shadow Of Dawn 4/12/2010
43. The Sea Is Full Of Wandering Foam 4/12/2010
44. The Sands Are Alive With Sunshine 4/12/2010
45. The Rain And The Wind 1/3/2003
46. The Past Was Goodly Once 4/12/2010
47. The Nightingale Has A Lyre Of Gold 4/12/2010
48. The Gods Are Dead 4/12/2010
49. The Full Sea Rolls And Thunders 4/12/2010
50. The Chief 4/12/2010
51. Suicide 4/12/2010
52. Staff Nurse:Old Style 4/12/2010
53. Staff Nurse: New Style 4/12/2010
54. Space And Dread And The Dark 4/12/2010
55. Some Starlit Garden Grey With Dew 4/12/2010
56. Since Those We Love And Those We Hate 2/18/2015
57. She Saunters By The Swinging Seas 4/12/2010
58. Scrubber 4/12/2010
59. Scherzando 4/12/2010
60. Romance 4/12/2010
61. Prologue 4/12/2010
62. Pro Rege Nostro 4/12/2010
63. Praise The Generous Gods 4/12/2010
64. Pastoral 4/12/2010
65. Over The Hills And Far Away 4/12/2010
66. Out Of The Night That Covers Me 4/12/2010
67. Orientale 4/12/2010
68. Operation 4/12/2010
69. One With The Ruined Sunset 4/12/2010
70. On The Way To Kew 4/12/2010
71. O, Time And Change, They Range And Range 4/12/2010
72. O, Have You Blessed, Behind The Stars 4/12/2010
73. O, Falmouth Is A Fine Town 4/12/2010
74. O Gather Me The Rose 1/3/2003
75. Not To The Staring Day 4/12/2010
76. Nocturn 4/12/2010
77. Music 4/12/2010
78. Midsummer Midnight Skies 4/12/2010
79. Margaritae Sorori 1/4/2003
80. Madam Life's A Piece In Bloom 1/3/2003
Best Poem of 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
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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