The Poison
Tree – 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
water'd it in fears,
Night
& morning with my tears;
And I
sunned it with my smiles
And 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 stole
When the
night had veil'd the pole:
In the
morning glad I see
My foe
outstretch'd beneath the tree
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