THE TYGER (From Songs of Experience)

1 1794 THE TYGER (From Songs of Experience) William Blake Blake, William (1757-1827) - English poet, engraver, and mystic who illustrated his own works. A rare genius, he created some of the purest lyrics in the English language. Blake believed himself to be guided by visions from the spiritual world; he died singing of the glories of heaven. The Tyger (1794) - Did he who make the Lamb make thee? illustrates Blake s belief that the fierce tiger is simply another manifestation of the Divine unity of all creation and that each element thereof is valid and necessary.

2 THE 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 of thine eyes? On what wings dare he aspire? What the hand dare seize 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 water d 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? THE END

1 1789 THE DIVINE IMAGE (From Songs of Innocence) William Blake Blake, William (1757-1827) - English poet, engraver, and mystic who illustrated his own works. A rare genius, he created some of the purest lyrics in the English language. Blake believed himself to be guided by visions from the spiritual world; he died singing of the glories of heaven. The Divine Image (1789) Opening lines: To Mercy, Pity, Peace, and Love / All pray in their distress;...

2 DIVINE IMAGE To Mercy, Pity, Peace, and Love All pray in their distress; And to these virtues of delight Return their thankfulness. For Mercy, Pity, Peace, and Love Is God, our father dear, And Mercy, Pity, Peace, and Love Is Man, his child and care. For Mercy has a human heart, Pity a human face, And Love, the human form divine, And Peace, the human dress. Then every man, of every clime That prays in his distress, Prays to the human form divine, Love, Mercy, Pity, Peace. - And all must love the human form, In heathen, turk, or jew; Where Mercy, Love & Pity dwell There God is dwelling too. THE END

1 HOW 1783 SWEET I ROAM D FROM FIELD TO FIELD William Blake Blake, William (1757-1827) - English poet, engraver, and mystic who illustrated his own works. A rare genius, he created some of the purest lyrics in the English language. Blake believed himself to be guided by visions from the spiritual world; he died singing of the glories of heaven. Song: How Sweet I Roamed from Field to Field (1783) - Taken from Poetical Sketches, Blake s earliest work. Phoebus, which means bright one, refers to Apollo, the Greek god of the sun, art, and music.

2 HOW SWEET I ROAM D FROM FIELD TO FIELD HOW sweet I roam d from field to field, And tasted all the summer s pride, Till I the prince of love beheld, Who in the sunny beams did glide! He shew d me lilies for my hair, And blushing roses for my brow; He led me through his gardens fair Where all his golden pleasures grow. With sweet May dews my wings were wet, And Phoebus fir d my vocal rage; He caught me in his silken net, And shut me in his golden cage. He loves to sit and hear me sing, Then, laughing, sports and plays with me; Then stretches out my golden wing, And mocks my loss of liberty. THE END

1 1794 LONDON (From Songs of Experience) William Blake Blake, William (1757-1827) - English poet, engraver, and mystic who illustrated his own works. A rare genius, he created some of the purest lyrics in the English language. Blake believed himself to be guided by visions from the spiritual world; he died singing of the glories of heaven. London (1794) - Contains Blake s famous reference to the mind-forged manacles. Opening lines: I wander through each charter d street, / Near where the charter d Thames does flow...

2 LONDON I wander thro each charter d street, Near where the charter d Thames does flow, And mark in every face I meet Marks of weakness, marks of woe. In every cry of every Man, In every Infant s cry of fear, In every voice, in every ban, The mind-forg d manacles I hear. How the Chimney-sweeper s cry Every black ning church appalls; And the hapless Soldier s sigh Runs in blood down Palace walls. But most thro midnight streets I hear How the youthful Harlot s curse Blasts the new born Infant s tear, And blights with plagues the Marriage hearse. THE END

1 1794 HOLY THURSDAY (From Songs of Experience) William Blake Blake, William (1757-1827) - English poet, engraver, and mystic who illustrated his own works. A rare genius, he created some of the purest lyrics in the English language. Blake believed himself to be guided by visions from the spiritual world; he died singing of the glories of heaven. Holy Thursday (1794) Opening lines: Is this a holy thing to see / In a rich and fruitful land,... HOLY THURSDAY Is this a holy thing to see In a rich and fruitful land, Babes reduc d to misery, Fed with cold and usurous hand? Is that trembling cry a song? Can it be a song of joy? And so many children poor? It is a land of poverty! And their sun does never shine, And their fields are bleak & bare, And their ways are fill d with thorns: It is eternal winter there. - For where-e er the sun does shine, And where-e er the rain does fall, Babe can never hunger there, Nor poverty the mind appall. THE END

1 1803 AUGURIES OF INNOCENCE William Blake Blake, William (1757-1827) - English poet, engraver, and mystic who illustrated his own works. A rare genius, he created some of the purest lyrics in the English language. Blake believed himself to be guided by visions from the spiritual world; he died singing of the glories of heaven. Auguries of Innocence (1803) - Opening lines: To see a World in a Grain of Sand / And a Heaven in a Wild Flower...

2 AUGURIES OF INNOCENCE To see a World in a Grain of Sand And a Heaven in a Wild Flower, Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand And Eternity in an hour. A Robin Red breast in a Cage Puts all Heaven in a Rage. A dove house fill d with doves & Pigeons Shudders Hell thro all its regions. A dog starv d at his Master s Gate Predicts the ruin of the State. A Horse misus d upon the Road Calls to Heaven for Human blood. Each outcry of the hunted Hare A fibre from the Brain does tear. A Skylark wounded in the wing, A Cherubim does cease to sing. The Game Cock clip d & arm d for fight Does the Rising Sun affright. Every Wolf s & Lion s howl Raises from Hell a Human Soul. The wild deer, wand ring her & there, Keeps the Human Soul from Care. The Lamb misus d breeds Public strife And yet forgives the Butcher s Knife. The Bat that flits at close of Eve Has left the Brain that won t Believe. The Owl that calls upon the Night Speaks the Unbeliever s fright. He who shall hurt the little Wren Shall never be belov d by Men. He who the Ox to wrath has mov d Shall never be by Woman lov d. The wanton Boy that kills the Fly Shall feel the Spider s enmity.

3 He who torments the Chafer s sprite Weaves a Bower in endless Night. The Caterpillar on the Leaf Repeats to thee thy Mother s grief. Kill not the Moth nor Butterfly, For the Last Judgment draweth nigh. He who shall train the Horse to War Shall never pass the Polar Bar. The Beggar s Dog & Widow s Cat, Feed them & thou wilt grow fat. The Gnat that sings his Summer s song Poison gets from Slander s tongue. The poison of the Snake & Newt Is the sweat of Envy s Foot. The Poison of the Honey Bee Is the Artist s Jealousy. The Prince s Robes & Beggar s Rags Are Toadstools on the Miser s Bags. A truth that s told with bad intent Beats all the Lies you can invent. It is right it should be so; Man was made for Joy & Woe; And when this we rightly know Thro the World we safely go, Joy & Woe are woven fine, A Clothing for the Soul divine; Under every grief & pine Runs a joy with silken twine. The Babe is more than swadling Bands; Throughout all these Human Lands Tools were made, & Born were hands, Every Farmer Understands. Every Tear from Every Eye Becomes a Babe in Eternity; This is caught by Females bright

4 And return d to its own delight. The Bleat, the Bark, Bellow & Roar Are Waves that Beat on Heaven s Shore. The Babe that weeps the Rod beneath Writes Revenge in realms of death. The Beggar s Rags, fluttering in Air, Does to Rags the Heavens tear. The Soldier, arm d with Sword & Gun, Palsied strikes the Summer s Sun. The poor Man s Farthing is worth more Than all the Gold on Afric s Shore. One Mite wrung from the Labrer s hands Shall buy & sell the Miser s Lands: Or, if protected from on high, Does the whole Nation sell & buy. He who mocks the Infant s Faith Shall be mock d in Age & Death. He who shall teach the Child to Doubt The rotting Grave shall ne er get out. He who respects the Infant s faith Triumphs over Hell & Death. The Child s Toys & the Old Man s Reasons Are the Fruits of the Two seasons. The Questioner, who sits so sly, Shall never know how to Reply. He who replies to words of Doubt Doth put the Light of Knowledge out. The Strongest Poison ever known Came from Caesar s Laurel Crown. Nought can deform the Human Race Like to the Armour s iron brace. When Gold & Gems adorn the Plow To peaceful Arts shall Envy Bow. A Riddle or the Cricket s Cry Is to Doubt a fit Reply.

5 The Emmet s Inch & Eagle s Mile Make Lame Philosophy to smile. He who Doubts from what he sees Will ne er Believe, do what you Please. If the Sun & Moon should doubt, They d immediately Go out. To be in a Passion you Good may do, But no Good if a Passion is in you. The Whore & Gambler, by the State Licenc d, build that Nation s Fate. The Harlot s cry from Street to Street Shall weave old England s winding Sheet. The Winners Shout, the Loser s Curse, Dance before dead England s Hearse. Every Night & every Morn Some to Misery are Born. Every Morn & every Night Some are Born to sweet delight. Some are Born to sweet delight, Some are Born to Endless Night. We are led to Believe a Lie When we see not Thro the Eye Which was Born in a Night to perish in a Night When the Soul Slept in Beams of Light. God Appears & God is Light To those poor Souls who dwell in Night, But does a Human Form Display To those who Dwell in Realms of day. THE END

1 1794 A POISON TREE (From Songs of Experience) William Blake Blake, William (1757-1827) - English poet, engraver, and mystic who illustrated his own works. A rare genius, he created some of the purest lyrics in the English language. Blake believed himself to be guided by visions from the spiritual world; he died singing of the glories of heaven. A Poison Tree (1794) - Opening lines: I was angry with my friend: \ I told my wrath, my wrath did end....

2 POISON TREE I was angry with my friend: I told my wrath, my wrath did end. I was angry with my foe: I told it not, my wrath did grow. And I water d it in fears, Night & morning with my tears; And I sunned it with smiles, And with soft deceitful wiles. And it grew both day and night, Till it bore an apple bright; And my foe beheld it shine, And he knew that it was mine, - And into my garden stole When the night had veil d the pole: In the morning glad I see My foe outstretch d beneath the tree. THE END