A Poisoned Apple 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 sad deceitful wiles

And it grew both day and night
Till it bore an apple bright,
And my foe beheld it shine,
For he knew that it was mine.

And into my garden stole,
When the night had vield the pole,
Into the morning glad I see,
My foe outstretched beneath the tree.

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