Conociendo a Blake

The Tyger

Tyger, tyger, burning bright

In the forest of the night:

What inmortal hand or eye

Could frame thy fearful symetry

In what distant deeps or skies

Burnt the fire of thy eyes

On what wings dare he's spire

What the hand dare sige 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 fear

What the hammer? What the chain

In what furnace was thy brain?

What the anvil? What dread grasp,

Dare it's deadly terrors clasp

When the stars threw down their spare

And scattered heaven with tears

Did he smile his work to see

Did he who made the lamb make thee

Tyger, tyger, burning bright

In the forest of the night

What inmortal hand or eye

Could frame thy fearful symetry.