The
Tyger
by William
Blake
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| Tyger ! Tyger ! Burning bright |
| In the forests 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 ?
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| And what shoulder, & what art, |
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Could twist the sinews of thy heart ? |
| And when thy heart began to beat, |
What dread hand? & what dread feet ?
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What the hammer, what the chain ? |
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In what furnace was thy brain ? |
|
What the anvil, what dread grasp |
Dare its deadly terrors clasp ?
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| When the stars threw down their spears, |
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And water'd heaven with their tears, |
| Did he smile his work to see ? |
Did he who made the Lamb make thee ?
|
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Tyger ! Tyger ! burning bright |
| In the forests of the night, |
| What immortal hand or eye |
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry ?
|
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William Blake | Classic
Poems |
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[ Jerusalem ] [ A Poison Tree ] [ London ] [ The Clod and the Pebble ] [ The Fly ] [ The Tyger ] |
