The Detroit times. [volume] (Detroit, Mich.) 1903-1920, 1915-05-12
"INVICTUS."
~ OR. FRANK CRANE
Copyright, 1915. by Frank Crane)

"Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole TO pole,
| thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance
have not WINGED nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody but unbowed.
Beyond the 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
1T matters not how straight the gate. i.
How charged with punishment the
scroll.
am the master of my fate,
/ am the captain of my SOUL"
One Of the greatest poems in any Ian
guage is this by William Ernest Henley.
There are differing standards of great
ness. Some Judge poem by it's sound.
its euphonious vowels, the perfection of
its rhythm and rhyme, its lit, its pecu-
liar fascination for the ear; some by It's
originality, some by its quantness, it's
unusual form; some by its fidelity to clas-
sic models, and so on.
| give first rank to Henley's poem be-
cause, first, OF the Importance Of its mes
sage. II is trumpet call 10 the life
forces of us: il arouses the souls re-
serves. II appeals to the very manifest
thing in man, that thing in him which
Carlyle terms 1.-THE Everlasting No"
After all, any piece of literature stands
or falls by its thought contents, by its
inspirational power David's verse, for
instance, The Lord Is My Shepherd" is
greater than all or any of the ingenious
rhymes of Swinburne or the sounding
AleXandrines Of Corneille, because the
images called up by il are more majestic
and awaken the mind to see more amaz-
ing and more affecting visions.
The choice of words, the literary work.
manship of "Invictus," however, is fault
less.
There are happy phrases of the un-
forgettable kind. Whatever gods there
be" is challenge 10 all the unknown
powers. MY unconquerable SOUL cpl
.tomizes the whsle right feeling Of self
confidence. MY head is bloody but UNI
bowed" is a sharply drawn picture of the
undaunted self The menace of the
years" visualizes the whole terror of APP
prehension, of presentiment. And the
last two lines are pure gold.
| wish that every discouraged strug-
gler in the battle for existence might
learn these verses by heart! that you,
tired and hungry, as you sit on your bed
side tonight in your mean hall bedroom,
might say them over before you go to
sleep.
! would that every tempted woman
might repeat these words every day as
she looks at herself in the mirror.
| would that every man and woman
who is face TO face with the gaunt wolf
Of poverty might speak to the beast in
these brave words.
| would that every soul in despair who
feels the clouds of failure settling down
upon him would utter these mighty syl-
tables as an incarnation TO dispense the
gloom and bring the sun back.
II | could write these verses on the
walls of every mind that contemplates
suicide | would do more good than if
gave the gold of benevolent Croesus.
II could breathe this poem into the
hearts of all those who contemplate the
desperation of crime / would be the
greatest of all benefactors.
Would that | had a Gabriers horn,
whose tones would reach the whole
army of defeated. the sad, the morbid,
the wretched and afraid would sum-
mon them again to the firing line of eff
fort, to the heroic attack of life upon
the dreaded forces Of surrender and
death.
Learn this poem. Store il in your
heart. Say it to yourself. And il will
mean more to you than all the money in
the banks Of the world
SLEEPING SICKNESS DIFFERS.
II Is now a well.established fact that there f.