Tyger Tyger burning bright in the forest of the night
What immortal hand or eye could frame thy perfect symmetry.
In what distant deeps or skies burnt the fire of thine eyes
On what wings did he aspire
What 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 hammer what the chain in what furnace was thy brain
What anvil what dread grasp dare its deadly terrors clasp.
And when the stars threw down their spears
And watered heaven with their tears
Did he smile is work to see?
Did he who make the lamb make thee?
Tyger Tyger burning bright in the forest of the night
What immortal hand or eye could frame thy perfect symmetry.
~ William Blake