Poem 31: THE TIGER
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| | Tiger, tiger, burning bright | |
| | In the forests of the night, | |
| | What immortal hand or eye | |
| | Could frame thy fearful symmetry? | |
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| | 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? | |
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| | 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? | |
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| | What the hammer? what the chain? | |
| | In what furnace was thy brain? | |
| | What the anvil? what dread grasp | |
| | Dare its deadly terrors clasp? | |
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| | 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? | |
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| | Tiger, tiger, burning bright | |
| | In the forests of the night, | |
| | What immortal hand or eye | |
| | Dare frame thy fearful symmetry? | |
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