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
Poured The light of the sun seems to be poured down, and to be poured, indeed, in every direction, but not poured away. Marcus Aurelius, Meditations Wasting light