Tiger Tiger 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, & 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?
Tiger Tiger burning bright,
In the forests of the night:
What immortal hand or eye,
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?
Showing posts with label Tiger poem. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Tiger poem. Show all posts
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
The Tiger Poem by William Blake
Friday, June 18, 2010
Poem about tiger cub
She stood on the edge
overlooking the valley.
Her elegant frame silhouetted
in the moonlit night.
Her intense eyes,
Pregnant with grief and pain.
Her gaze,
Penetrating into the quite lugubrious abyss.
The maelstrom inside her,
resounding in the stillness of the night.
Nothing is moving, not even the dewdrops
hanging precariously from the leaves.
A small cub rests in peace
cuddled between her paws.
It’s body cold as ice.
They had been there together
just one night
both mother and child.
Slowly she slumps beside the lifeless child
and licks the furry body.
Tucking it closer with her paws
she embraces it for One last time.
The forest watches quiescent.
overlooking the valley.
Her elegant frame silhouetted
in the moonlit night.
Her intense eyes,
Pregnant with grief and pain.
Her gaze,
Penetrating into the quite lugubrious abyss.
The maelstrom inside her,
resounding in the stillness of the night.
Nothing is moving, not even the dewdrops
hanging precariously from the leaves.
A small cub rests in peace
cuddled between her paws.
It’s body cold as ice.
They had been there together
just one night
both mother and child.
Slowly she slumps beside the lifeless child
and licks the furry body.
Tucking it closer with her paws
she embraces it for One last time.
The forest watches quiescent.
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