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1757–1827

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 fears Night and morning with my tears, And I sunned it with smiles And with soft deceitful wiles.

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A POISON TREE · William Blake · Poetry Cove