Out of the night that covers me,
Black at the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods my 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.
Are yours ?
I do hope my friends you understand ?
Or do you understand ?
"I do not" Because I have only put together
some words, perhaps without scene,
but, but !
Black at the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods my 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.
Are yours ?
I do hope my friends you understand ?
Or do you understand ?
"I do not" Because I have only put together
some words, perhaps without scene,
but, but !
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