Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank, in Him, Jesus Christ,
For my redeemed and purchased soul.
In the fell-hard clutch of circumstance
I have sore-winced and cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of flagrance
My head is bloody and low-bowed.
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:
He is the captain of my soul.
Co-opted Invictus, mjg/10
I have written a something of an explanation of this poem, here: Christus Invictus: Behind the Verse