When I was young, a poem often quoted was "Invictus" by William Ernest Henley.

"Out of the night that covers me, black as a 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 veil of wrath and tears clings but the harrow of the shading.
Yet the menace of the years finds in self I meet unafraid;
matters not how straight the gate, how charged with punishments the scroll.
I am the master of my fate. I am the captain of my soul."

Those are brave words. Foolish bravery. Underscored by the fact that the man who wrote them took his own life in utter despair.

Someone wrote a Christian answer to "Invictus," and it goes like this.

"Out of the light that dazzles me, bright is the sun from pole to pole.
I thank the God I know to be, for Christ the conqueror of my soul.
Since he's the sway of circumstance, I would not wince nor cry aloud.
Under that rule which men call chance, my head with joy is humbly bowed.
Beyond this place of sin and tears, that life with him. And he's the aide
That spite diminished of the years keeps and shall keep me unafraid.
It matters not, though straight the gate, He cleared from punishments the scroll.
Christ is the master of my fate. Christ the captain of my soul."