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William Blake

• 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 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?