My wrath did grow..

A Poison Tree
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 water'd it in fears,
Night & 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
- William Blake

P.S. The Poison Tree not only grew in the Seventeen Hundreds,
you find her till date.

William Blake, an English poet and painter (found his exposure to classical forms thro' the works of Renaissance masters)