The Tyger A Poem by William Blake www.poetryfoundation.org Tyger Tyger burning bright, In the forests of the night: What immortal hand or eye, Dare frame thy fearful symmetry? It's a Magical World
Dark satanic mills And did the Countenance Divine, Shine forth upon our clouded hills? And was Jerusalem builded here, Among these dark Satanic Mills? Dark satanic steelStepping out of the firehose industry