| 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, | 5 |
| 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? | 10 |
| 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, | 15 |
| Dare its deadly terrors clasp? | |
| |
| When the stars threw down their spears, | |
| And water'd heaven with their tears: | |
| Did he smile his work to see? | |
| Did he who made the Lamb make thee? | 20 |
| |
| Tyger Tyger burning bright | |
| In the forests of the night: | |
| What immortal hand or eye, | |
| Dare frame thy fearful symmetry? | |
| |