|
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? |
|
And what shoulder, & what art, Could twist the sinews of thy heart? And when thy heart began to beat, What dread hand? & what dread feet? |
|
What the hammer? what the chain? In what furnace was thy brain? What the anvil? what dread grasp Dare its deadly terrors clasp? |
|
When the stars threw down their spears And water'd 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 forests of the night, What immortal hand or eye Dare frame thy fearful symmetry? |