This one's for the post a poem thing that's going around. Of course, I couldn't just post. This sort of thing needs set up, right. Right? Well, I thought so anyway...
Let me introduce "William Blake. He's a really odd fellow in a really odd time. However, unlike so many artists, he seems well meaning and sincere rather than compulsive and creepy.
A devoutly Christian man with visionary tendencies ( ala Hildegard von Bingen ) and a membership card in a few of the secret societies of the day, Bill has a lot of Gnostic themes in his stuff.
You'll probably know the first two lines. This is the sequel to another poem, more obviously called "The Lamb".
THE TYGER (from Songs Of Experience)
By 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 sieze the fire?
And what shoulder, & what art.
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
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 watered 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?
1794
Let me introduce "William Blake. He's a really odd fellow in a really odd time. However, unlike so many artists, he seems well meaning and sincere rather than compulsive and creepy.
A devoutly Christian man with visionary tendencies ( ala Hildegard von Bingen ) and a membership card in a few of the secret societies of the day, Bill has a lot of Gnostic themes in his stuff.
You'll probably know the first two lines. This is the sequel to another poem, more obviously called "The Lamb".
THE TYGER (from Songs Of Experience)
By 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 sieze the fire?
And what shoulder, & what art.
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
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 watered 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?
1794