The Tyger

When I was about 11 years old, my English teacher set the class a task of memorising a short poem that each of us would then recite at the school assembly. I think the teacher was expecting nursery rhymes or a bit of Pam Ayers...My mum, being the woman she is, talked me into learning William Blake's “The Tyger”. Despite the near traumatising effects of trying to rhyme “hand or eye” with “symmetry” in front of the whole school...i was hooked...and became an instant new favourite with the English teacher who was known for throwing board-rubbers at students he didn't like.
Without knowing it, my mum (a working class woman whose real aspirations were taken from her and replaced with those deemed more reasonable for a girl of her background) always encouraged her two daughters to reach higher than anyone else thought we could. I thank her when ever I can, I just wish she believed what an inspiration she has been.

THE TYGER (from Songs Of Experience) 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 sieze 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 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?