A Poison Tree By William Blake I was angry with my friend:

A Poison Tree
By William Blake
I was angry with my friend:I told my wrath, my wrath did end.I was angry with my foe:I told it not, my wrath did grow.
And I watered it in fearsNight and morning with my tears,And I sunned it with smilesAnd with soft deceitful wiles.
And it grew both day and night,Till it bore an apple bright,And my foe beheld it shine,And he knew that it was mine,–
And into my garden stoleWhen the night had veiled the pole;In the morning, glad, I seeMy foe outstretched beneath the tree.
By William Ernes Henley
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.