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12 Feb

A Poison Tree

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 watere’d it in fears
Night and 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 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.

"A Poison Tree" by William Blake

Last modified on Thursday, 07 June 2012 09:27
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