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 water’d it in fears,
Night & 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.

~William Blake

P.S. For interpretation of the poem please see the following links:

• http://victorian-fiction.suite101.com/article.cfm/william_blakes_a_poison_tree
• http://rpo.library.utoronto.ca/poem/2900.html
• http://british-poetry.suite101.com/article.cfm/willilam_blakes_a_poison_tree
• http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/A_Poison_Tree