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The Poison TreeBy: William Blake
I was angry with my friend:I told my wrath, my wrath did endI was angry with my foeI told it not, my wrath did grow.
I was angry at my friendI told my friend I was angry, I wasn't angry anymoreI was angry with my enemyI didn't tell him, I was even more angry
I water'd it in anxietyDay & night with with my tearsAnd lazed it with smilesAnd light deceptive guile
I water'd it in fearsNight & morning with my tears;And I sunned it with smiles,And with soft deceitful wiles.
And it grew both day and night,Till it bore an apple bright;
And it aged dark and light,Until it sprout a radiant apple;
And my foe beheld it shine,And he knew that it was mine,
And my enemy saw the anger,That he knew was mine,
And into my garden stoleWhen the night had veil'd the pole;In the morning glad I seeMy foe outstretched beneath the tree.
And in my garden mantledWhen the night cloaked the pole;In the light I'm glad to see,My enemy lie under the tree.
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