The Tyger 
William Blake 1757-1827

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 seize 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 hammers?  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 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 forests of the night,
                                What immortal hand or eye
                                Dare frame they fearful symmetry?

© Elkins High School

Return to Main Page