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William Blake, “A Poison Tree”

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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 waterd it in fears,
Night & 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 veild the pole;
In the morning glad I see;
My foe outstretched beneath the tree.

 

— William Blake, “A Poison Tree”; from Blake’s Songs of Experience

 

William Blake, “A Poison Tree”
“A Poison Tree”; etching by William Blake

— posted by Roger W. Smith

   May 2016

 

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addendum, October 2025

Blake’s acute insights — rare for the age of Enlightenment — appealed to me from the very beginning, when I first started reading him in college.

The point of this poem, published in Blake’s Songs of Experience, is described thusly at

https://www.litcharts.com/poetry/william-blake/a-poison-tree

“The poem is generally interpreted as an allegory for the danger of bottling up emotions, and how doing so leads to a cycle of negativity and even violence.”

Something that comes to mind in my store of memories is how I was angry with my father once in my early years, when I was trying to assert myself over issues I had with him. We were having difficulty communicating. He said something about my being moody, uncommunicative, and angry.

I quoted the lines

I was angry with my friend;
I told my wrath, my wrath did end.

to him.