William Blake. (№ 265918)

Enraged friend brought me -
The anger poured out I am the anger passed.
The enemy offense I have caused -
I was silent, but my anger grew.
I concealed it in quiet
In the depths of his soul,
The tears poured,
Then a smile warmed.
He grew night, it was growing by the day.
Ripe Apple on it
Sweet poison full.
Knew my foe, and whose it is.
A dark night in silence
He snuck into the garden to me
And remained immovable,
Poison my bound.
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.