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 watered 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?
In the old CapCom sidescrolling fight game Knights of the Round there are one or two sections where you fight these tigers that burst into flame when you kill them. They don't explode for points of damage or anything; they just evaporate in a halo of fire rather than blink out of existence like all the other badguys.
I'm not trying to make a big point with this post. I just think that tygers made out of fire are cool.
PoP!
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I have drawn three pieces today, and this -- with no hint of irony or
self-deprecation -- is the best of them all.
gotta love some stripy Blake!
ReplyDeletei had a cat that turned into milk and maggots when it died.
ReplyDeletein a game, i mean.
LOOK OUT BEHIND YOU!
ReplyDelete