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I was angry with my friend |
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I told my wrath, my wrath did end |
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I was angry with my foe |
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I told it not, my wrath did grow |
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And I watered it in fears |
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Night and morning with my tears |
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And I sunned it with my smiles |
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And with soft deceitful wiles |
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And sometimes I |
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See magpie |
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And it grew both day and night |
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Till it bore an apple bright |
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And my foe beheld it shine |
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And he knew that it was mine |
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And into my garden stole |
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When the night had veiled the pole |
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In the morning, glad, I see |
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My foe outstretched beneath the tree |
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And sometimes I |
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See magpie |
