Reading Practice

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 tears, night and morning with my fears; And I sunned it with smiles, and with soft, deceitful wiles. And it grew both day and night, 'til it bore an apple bright. And my foe beheld its 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.