One of William Blake's most apparent characteristics is his childish tone, yet serious undertones, and The Poisonous Tree is yet an example of this immaculate skill of Blake's. I have always read this poem as it deals with the dangers of harboring anger and how nurturing hate may finally become so ingrained in us that we succumb to it completely. In is the ending of the poem that is most striking to me as it so undeniably signify the final outcome of wrath. In the morning, which should mean a new beginning, the narrator rather feels joy when he discovers his enemy lying dead.
A Poison Tree
by William Blake (1757-1827)
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 watered it in fears
Night and 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 veiled the pole;
In the morning, glad, I see
My foe outstretched beneath the tree.
I told my wrath, my wrath did end.
I was angry with my foe:
I told it not, my wrath did grow.
And I watered it in fears
Night and 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 veiled the pole;
In the morning, glad, I see
My foe outstretched beneath the tree.
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