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Tyger, tyger burning bright/ in the forest of the night On what wings dare he aspire?
What immortal hand or eye, COULD frame thy fearful symmetry?
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?
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