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 water’d it in fears,

Night and morning with my tears,

And I sunn’d it in smiles

And in 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.