At the age of 12, William had a tuberculous in the bone. He had to have his leg amputated to the knee and doctors told him he would have to have the other one amputated if he were to survive.
He did not pay heed and kept going with his life with one leg, only to become a famous poet and lead a successful career of a literary critic.
To this day, you can look at people and see what separates men of character from spineless wieners is the difference in the way they face challenges.
Henley was truly the captain of his soul.
And this one from him won’t fail to capture your heart –
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.
PS: Came across some poems that I thought had to find their way on my blog. Making a post about them so that I can come back later and read and know what I felt, once, while reading them.