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 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 veiled the pole;
In the morning glad I see
My foe outstretched beneath the tree.
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Comments about this poem (A Poison Tree by William Blake )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(10 February 1970-)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(22 August 1893 - 7 June 1967)
William Butler Yeats
(13 June 1865 – 28 January 1939)
William Ernest Henley
(1849 - 1902)
(22 March 1941 -)
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