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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 water'd it in fears,
Night and morning with my tears:
And i sunned it with my 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 veil'd the pole;
In the morning glad I see
My foe outstretch'd beneath the tree.