© 2009 Lynsey

058 – Tyger! Tyger!


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 in 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?
— William Blake 1789

Some days it’s hard to see the tigers. They’re there, of course, but you have to look very hard. When they stop moving they blend in and they’re nigh on invisible. And that’s part of their charm.

Manifesto
14. Every day the ordinary can be the extraordinary.
17. Every day look through a new lens.
32. Every day have a laugh.

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