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In what distant deeps or skies |
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Burnt the fire of thine eyes? |
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On what wings dare he aspire? |
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What the hand dare seize the fire? |
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Tyger, Tyger, burning bright |
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In the forests of the night |
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What immortal hand or eye |
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Could frame thy fearful symmetry? |
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And what shoulder, and what art |
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Could twist the sinews of thy heart? |
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And when thy heart began to beat |
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What dread hand and what dread feet? |
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What the hammer? What the chain? |
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In what furnace was thy brain? |
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What the anvil, what dread grasp |
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Dare its deadly terrors clasp? |
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Tyger, Tyger, burning bright |
|
In the forests of the night |
|
What immortal hand or eye |
|
Could frame thy fearful symmetry? |
|
Tyger, Tyger, burning bright |
|
In the forests of the night |
|
What immortal hand or eye |
|
Could frame thy fearful symmetry? |
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When the stars threw down their spears |
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And watered heaven with their tears |
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Did He smile his work to see? |
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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 |
|
Tyger, Tyger, burning bright |
|
In the forests of the night |
|
What immortal hand or eye |
|
Could frame thy fearful symmetry? |
|
Tyger, Tyger, burning bright |
|
In the forests of the night |
|
What immortal hand or eye |