Professional Documents
Culture Documents
A Poison Tree: William Blake
A Poison Tree: William Blake
BY WILLIAM BLAKE
Scenario #2: We get the same basic set-up here. The speaker's mad again, but this time
he's mad at his enemy. Will he follow the same route? You bet your bippy he won't. He
keeps mum about his anger for his enemy and, well, that anger just grows. The speaker's
anger is only heightened by his fears, and his continued deception about his true feelings.
Then, in an odd, metaphorical twist, the speaker's anger blossoms into an apple. Yum! At
least the speaker's enemy thinks so. One night, he sneaks into the speaker's garden
(presumably for a delicious apple snack), but it doesn't work out so well for him. The next
morning, the speaker is happy to see that his foe lying dead under the tree that bore the
(apparently poison) apple. Not good.
STANZA 1 SUMMARY
Lines 1-2
I was angry with my friend:
I told my wrath, my wrath did end.
As the poem opens, the speaker describes how he was angry with
his friend. Bad times.
Still, he told his friend he was angry ("I told my wrath"), and
presumably why he was angry, and his anger disappeared. Happy
days are here again!
We notice that these lines are linked with end rhyme and a pretty
consistent rhythm. We wonder if this form will continue. (Spoiler
alert: Check out "Form and Meter" for more on this.)
Lines 3-4
I was angry with my foe:
I told it not, my wrath did grow.
The speaker describes a different scenario, now. He was once
angry with his "foe" (a.k.a. his enemy), but didn't tell him about
it.
Since the speaker did not talk about his anger ("I told it not"), his
anger got bigger and bigger ("my wrath did grow").
You know how, when you keep something bottled up inside, it
tends to make that feeling more intense and overwhelming? We're
guessing that this is what's going on for the speaker here.
Lines 5-8
He watered it with his "fears" and his "tears" and made sure it got
plenty of sunshine.
Now, we know that the speaker didn't give his anger-plant real
sunshine. Instead, he gave it "smiles" and "deceitful wiles." These
are more like "fake" sunshine.
They help the plant to growlike real sunshine would for a real
plant..
Lines 9-12
The speaker's enemy sure thinks so. The enemy sees the fruit of
the speaker's wrath, and somehow he's able to recognize that it
belongs to the speaker. It's not clear how, though.
Lines 13-16
That doesn't stop the enemy from trying to steal it, though. After
he has seen the apple, the "foe" sneaks into the speaker's garden
at night.
The word "stole" is a past tense of the verb "steal," which in this
context means something like "sneak in secretly." This word also
suggests "steal" (like a thief steals). It seems that the speaker is
blaming his foe, or calling him a thief.
This happens when it's super-dark out. In the phrase "night had
veiled the pole," pole refers to the top of the earth, as in the
"north pole," but it can also mean the pole star, also known as the
North star, also known as Polaris. It's an important star for
navigation, since it's bright and it stays pretty much fixed in the
sky. Tonight, though, the night has "veiled" it, covered it up. This
star, used in navigating folks safely through danger, is not visible.
Uh-oh!
To suggest that the night (an abstract time) could actually cover
up the star (like a person might) is to use personification.
Still, the word "glad" is a bit ambiguous here (it could have more
than one meaning). "Glad" could refer to the morning, as in "the
morning is glad," or it can refer to the speaker's feelings when he
sees his "foe" lying "beneath the tree."
Either way, it seems like bad times for the enemy, good times for
the speaker. Or is it?
A POISON TREE
INTRODUCTION
"A Poison Tree," as you've probably figured out by now, appears in Songs of
Experience. It's a poem about anger, revenge, and death (some of Blake's
favorite themes), which contrast markedly with many of the poems in the Songs
of Innocence that feature, well, happier trees and more benign themes. In this
poem, Blake is really indulging and exploring his darker side, and the darker side
of the human condition by extension.
Do you know anyone who really, really annoys you? Somebody who, no matter
what they do, always manages to get under your skin? Maybe it's a roommate
who refuses to take out the trash or do the dishes, or perhaps it's a sibling who
always listens to their music too loud when you're trying to study or insists on
taking the front seat of the car all the time.
Have you ever noticed that when you talk to them reasonably about what they're
doing that makes you angry, everything becomes much simpler? If you don't say
anything, though, your anger just festers and grows, and grows, and makes you
more miserable by the minute. There's a good chance that you're familiar with
this experience, and it is this experience that William Blake's poem discusses,
though in a more gruesome fashion.
Now, we admit, sometimes it's easier just to walk away. But sometimes a
confrontation is in order. If we refuse to talk to people about what they're doing
that is bugging us, we're the ones who really suffer; we, essentially, "water" and
"sun" (in Blake's terms) our anger until it blossoms into a poisonous apple.
Granted, growing a poison apple with nothing but hate is a pretty unlikely
scenariowell, it's actually impossiblebut it's really an extended metaphor for
how destructive anger can be. Sure, it won't turn into an apple that will kill your
enemy, but it can become something equally destructive.
Just think: there have been many troubled people who have "snapped" and gone
on to do something just as destructive (just think of the school shootings alone
over the last twenty years or so). In a sense, Blake's poem urges us (you
included!) to talk about our anger and frustrationsnot just with our friends, but
with our enemies as well. Perhaps this can, at the very least, ease our internal
trouble and prevent us from harming others.
The tone is very matter-of-fact with a hint of satisfaction. The speaker was
angry, and he did nothing about it. The anger poisoned the soil of the tree
creating poison fruit. He knew the enemy would be tempted by the fruit. He was
correct, and revenge was successful.
The extended metaphor is comparing anger to a plant (the poison tree of the
title). The process of cultivating one's emotions (as seen in the line " And I
watered it in fears") is compared to cultivating a plant. The emotion is followed
through an entire growth cycle, until it blossoms into death. There is a
secondary metaphor implied by the apple; Blake is tied the anger of the poem
with the pride of the biblical story of Adam and Eve. This becomes a kind of
original sin.
There are several possible interpretations for those last two lines. One
possible option is that the speaker's wrath killed the other man. To clarify, as the
speaker of the poem kept his wrath within him instead of speaking about it, it
grew and grew. It became more and more of a burden, no matter what he did,
whether it be that he "watered it in fears," or "sunned it with smiles." The wrath
becomes so large and noticeable that Blake uses a metaphor of an apple growing
from a tree to describe how it feels to him. Then, at the end, he states that "In
the morning glad I see; /My foe outstretched beneath the tree," which seems to
indicate that the foe has partaken of this poisoned apple, and has died. That is
one interpretation. If your wrath and anger for someone is nurtured within you
for so long, it eventually turns to poison, and that poison often does great
damage to the person you are angry with. It's kind-of like bottling up rage and
having it explode, with disastrous and regretful results, instead of just dealing
with your anger right away. Blake uses a poisoned apple as a metaphor for that
toxic anger that the reader grew by dwelling on it, and his foe, outstretched on
the ground, is a symbol for the speaker having released his anger finally, and
how it completely destroyed the other person. I doubt Blake is referring to actual
murder, but think of the consequences of blowing up at someone; it ruins
friendships, self-esteem, families, marriages, and often has lasting impacts.
Blake's moral is that when we are angry, we should, as he did in line 2, talk
about it and get it out there, so that it can "end" in a better way.
Second Quatrain
The second quatrain, composed of two more rhyming couplets, seems less like a
child's verse than the first quatrain. "And I waterd it in fears," the speaker says,
"Night & morning with my tears: / And I sunned it with smiles, / And with soft
deceitful wiles." In these lines, the speaker tells how he has tended and
cultivated his anger, how he has made it grow. He is not suggesting a moral, as
he does in the first quatrain, but he is examining a process. He is revealing the
pleasure he takes in his own slyness. He also begins to speak using metaphor.
Metaphor allows one thing to suggest or stand for something else. The "it" of the
first line of the second quatrain refers to the speaker's wrath, but he speaks of
his wrath not as if it were an emotion, which it is, but as if it were a small plant.
He "waterd" his anger with his tears, and, using another metaphor, he "sunned it
with smiles / And with soft deceitful wiles."
Wiles are sly tricks, strategies intended to deceive someone into trusting. The
speaker is laying a trap for his foe, tempting him to desire something that seems
alluring but is harmful. As he pretends to be friendly to his foe, the very act of
being friendly strengthens his wrath. The false smiles he bestows on his foe act
like sunshine on the plant of his wrath. The friendlier the speaker seems, the
more hostile he really is, and the worse are his intentions. The clarity of
innocence is gone. The speaker's behavior does not look like what it is. He is not
what he seems. By using metaphor, by talking about anger as if it were a plant
and about hypocrisy as if it were sunshine, the speaker represents the duplicity
of his behavior in his language. He makes his behavior appear more attractive
than it is.
Third Quatrain
What is a figure of speech, a metaphor, in the second quatrain seems to become
the thing itself, an actual tree, in the third. "And it grew both day and night," the
speaker says. The "it" must refer to his wrath, which he has been cultivating with
"smiles, / And soft deceitful wiles." In the second line of the third quatrain,
however, "it" bears "an apple bright." The wrath has become an actual tree.
Anger does not bear apples. Apple trees do. A feeling has been given so much
weight that it has become a presence, an actual thing. The fruit of the
speaker's...