The 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 watered it in fears

Nights and mornings with my tears

And I sunned wit 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 intomy garden stole

Wherether night had veil the pole

In the morning glad I see

My foe outstretched beneath the tree