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 and morning with my tears;

　　And I sunnèd 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.