Get out the microscope, because we’re going through this poem line-by-line.
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,
- Because of the speaker's efforts, his plant (anger) eventually bears ("bore") fruit: an "apple bright." Yum!
- Wait, is this apple a good thing?
- 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.
- Let's read on to see if that's explained later in the poem…