6673 "Poison Tree", by William Blake rittsy 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 waterd 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.:: :: ::