I was angry with my Friend,I told my wrath my wrath didn’t end.
I was angry with my foe, I told it not my wrath did grow and
I watered it in fierce night and morning with my tears and
I send it with smiles and with soft deceitful wilds 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 stall with a knife that veil the foe
in the morning glad i see my foe outstretched beneath the truth.