Tiger

The Tyger
By William Blake

Tyger Tyger, burning bright,
In the forest of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

In what distant deeps or skies
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand dare sieze the fire?

And what shoulder, and what art
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand and what dread feet?

What the hammer and what the chain?
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? What dread grasp
Dare it's deadly terrors clasp?

When the stars threw down their spears,
And watered heaven with their tears,
Did he smile, his work to see?
Did he who made the lamb make thee?

Tyger Tyger, burning bright,
In the forest of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?


- Webpage by Tiger (tiger@tyger.org)


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