Tyger! Tyger! burning bright In the forests of the night, What immortal hand or eye Could frame thy fearful symmetry?
5 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, & what art,
10 Could twist the sinews of thy heart? And when thy heart began to beat, What dread hand? & what dread feet?
1. For the author's revisions while composing 'The Tyger,' see 'Poems in Process,' in the appendices to this volume.
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A H SUN-FLOWE R / 9 3 isWhat the hammer? what the chain? In what furnace was thy brain? What the anvil? what dread grasp Dare its deadly terrors clasp? 20When the stars threw down their spears2 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? 1790-92 1794
My Pretty Rose Tree
A flower was offerd to me; Such a flower as May never bore, But I said, 'I've a Pretty Rose-tree,' And I passed the sweet flower o'er.
5 Then I went to my Pretty Rose-tree, To tend her by day and by night. But my Rose turnd away with jealousy, And her thorns were my only delight.
1794
Ah Sun-flower
Ah Sun-flower! weary of time, Who countest the steps of the Sun, Seeking after that sweet golden clime Where the traveller's journey is done;
5 Where the Youth pined away with desire, And the pale Virgin shrouded in snow, Arise from their graves and aspire, Where my Sun-flower wishes to go.
2. 'Threw down' is ambiguous and may signify that the stars either 'surrendered' or 'hurled down' their spears.
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94 / WILLIAM BLAKE
The Garden of Love
I went to the Garden of Love, And saw what I never had seen: A Chapel was built in the midst, Where I used to play on the green.
5 And the gates of this Chapel were shut, And 'Thou shalt not' writ over the door; So I turn'd to the Garden of Love, That so many sweet flowers bore,
And I saw it was filled with graves,
10 And tomb-stones where flowers should be; And Priests in black gowns were walking their rounds, And binding with briars my joys & desires.
1794
London I wander thro' each charter'd' street, Near where the charter'd Thames does flow, And mark in every face I meet Marks of weakness, marks of woe. 5 In every cry of every Man, In every Infant's cry of fear, In every voice, in every ban,2 The mind-forg'd manacles I hear: 10How the Chimney-sweeper's cry Every blackning Church appalls, And the hapless Soldier's sigh Runs in blood down Palace walls. 15But most thro' midnight streets I hear How the youthful Harlot's curse Blasts the new-born Infant's tear,3 And blights with plagues the Marriage hearse.4 1794
1. 'Given liberty,' but also, ironically, 'preempted as private property, and rented out.' 2. The various meanings of ban are relevant (political and legal prohibition, curse, public condemnation) as well as 'banns' (marriage proclamation). 3. Most critics read this line as implying prenatal blindness, resulting from a parent's venereal disease (the 'plagues' of line 16) by earlier infection from the harlot.
4. In the older sense: 'converts the marriage bed into a bier.' Or possibly, because the current sense of the word had also come into use in Blake's day, 'converts the marriage coach into a funeral hearse.'
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INFANT SORROW / 95
The Human Abstract1
Pity would be no more, If we did not make somebody Poor; And Mercy no more could be, If all were as happy as we;
5 And mutual fear brings peace, Till the selfish loves increase; Then Cruelty knits a snare, And spreads his baits with care.
He sits down with holy fears,
10 And waters the ground with tears; Then Humility takes its root Underneath his foot.
Soon spreads the dismal shade Of Mystery over his head; is And the Catterpiller and Fly Feed on the Mystery.
And it bears the fruit of Deceit, Ruddy and sweet to eat; And the Raven his nest has made
