My mother groaned, my father wept,
Into the dangerous world I leapt,
Helpless, naked, piping loud,
Like a fiend hid in a cloud.
Struggling in my father's hands.
Striving against my swaddhng bands,
Bound, and weary, I thought best
To sulk upon my mother's breast.
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 sunnèd 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 veil'd the pole;
In the morning, glad, I see
My foe outstretch'd beneath the tree.
