Tiger, tiger, burning bright In the forests of the night, What immortal hand and eye Dare frame thy fearful symmetry ? Burnt in distant deeps or skies The cruel fire of thine eyes ? Could heart descend or wings aspireč 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 handčand what dread feet ? 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 and eye Dare frame thy fearful symmetry ? William Blake