A 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 watered 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.

Poetry Tale: The Soldier in the Garden

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TEXT PROVENANCE · First published 1794 in Songs of Experience · Text from Wikisource’s regularized transcription of Songs of Innocence and of Experience, Copy Z (1826).

Songs of Innocence and of Experience (1826 edition)

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