—The Tyger by William Blake
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"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?"
Read it here | Reblog for a larger sample size!
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The Tyger - William Blake - UK
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.
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 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?
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For #InternationalTigerDay 🐅 on #Caturday:
William Blake (British, 1757–1827)
"The Tyger"
Songs of Innocence and Experience (copy Y), plate 42
Date: [1794] printed ca. 1825
Relief etching printed in orange-brown ink and hand-colored with watercolor and shell gold
6 3/16 x 5 9/16 in. (15.7 x 14.1 cm)
Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York 17.10.42
>One of Blake's best-known verses, "The Tyger," comes from the Songs of Innocence and of Experience. Blake originally produced this small, richly illustrated collection of short lyric verses as two separate books, in 1789 and 1794, then combined them into a single volume in the latter year. Although its small, colorful format recalls a children's book, its message is sophisticated and complex. Innocence and Experience contrast human existence, before and after the Fall. The pastoral poems in Innocence express religious faith and acceptance, and exhibit fine detail and flowing lines; the bardic verses in Experience, by contrast, convey disillusionment and anger, and employ bolder outlines. Published during the height of the Terror, the French Revolution left its mark on the second book.
Blake produced only twenty-four copies of the combined volume; this page comes from one of the last, prepared about 1825 for the painter and printmaker Edward Calvert (1799–1883). Its deep, saturated hues and distinctive ornamental borders (found on only one other copy) contrast with the lighter, paler colors of editions printed three decades earlier. The book remained in the Calvert family until the late nineteenth century; in 1917, it became the first work purchased for the Metropolitan Museum's new Department of Prints by its distinguished first curator, William M. Ivins, Jr.<
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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.
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 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?
"The Tyger." Songs of Experience, William Blake (1794)
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Tyger Tyger, burning bright,
In the forests of the night;
What immortal hand or eye,
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?
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Did he who made the lamb make me?
this is based of the poems by William Blake in Songs of Innocence and of Experience (specifically “The Lamb” and “The Tyger”)
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Just curious.
(All of these are very good and well worth the read.)
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The Tyger by William Blake
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
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
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 hand? and 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 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?
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what dread hand & what dread feet wednesday
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Thy Fearful Symmetry
Thy Fearful Symmetry a Fenris one-shot. Thanks to @rakshadow because i was inspired by the back and forth posting earlier. There is violence and gore. I intended to do Fenris introspection but pretty much the opposite came out of my brain lol.
“Tyger Tyger, burning bright,
In the forests of the night;
What immortal hand or eye,
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?”
Fenris said in an even tone as he leapt through the group of slaver’s with an ease that was seemingly at odds with the size of the blade he chose to wield.
“In what distant deeps or skies.
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?”
He spoke as the points of his gauntlet plucked the offending eyes of an archer before phasing away yet again.
“On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand, dare seize the fire?”
He seemed to fly through them, a voice without form. Then he was suddenly solid before a mage, his hand within the slaver’s chest. Fenris pulled his ghostly hand from the chest, a bloody mess of beating heart in his fist.
“And what shoulder, & what art,
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?”
He threw the heart into the face of the nearest warrior with a battle hammer, swiping low to take out his leg.
“And when thy heart began to beat.
What dread hand? & what dread feet?”
He said as he dodged the man’s desperate swing in just such a way that it struck another enemy. The man had been helmetless and his skull burst with the blow, brains falling on sand before the body. He grinned with a dark delight.
“What the hammer? what the chain,
In what furnace was thy brain?”
The few remaining slavers looked hesitant to approach. The nearest one quaked in fear. Fenris jumped to him, holding him high by the throat.
“What the anvil? what dread grasp.
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?”
He could see a spear-man take aim and he used the man in his grasp as a shield. He watched his look of shock as he was pierced then discarded him to the ground to attend to the now unarmed spear-man, neatly lopping off his head. He turned to the few remaining slavers.
“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?”
They ran and Fenris laughed. It would do them no good. As he hunted them down to finish them off he recited.
“Tyger Tyger burning bright,
In the forests of the night:
What immortal hand or eye,
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?”
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Tyger, Tyger
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