The Tyger (William Blake) 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 fires of thine eyes? On what wings dare he aspire? What the hand dare seize the fire? And what shoulder, and what art, Could twist the sinew of thy heart? And when thy heart began to beat, What dread hand? and what dread feet? What the hammer? what the chain, In what furnace was they brain? What the anvil? what dread grasp Dare its deadly terrors clasp? When thee starts three 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?   Website Copyright© 1998, 1999 Tygereyez All Rights Reserved® You are visitor no.   since September 10, 1998