Tyger Tyger..

tyger tyger william blakeAs I walk back home from lab, late at night, I listen to various podcasts. Recently, I’ve listened to ones on Human Psychology and Poetry. Yesterday’s podcast was about this poem, The Tyger, by William Blake and as I walked in the dark, I felt a chill go down my spine as I heard these verses. (play this in the background as you read for intended effect)

Tyger! Tyger! burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

Never have I felt so eerie while listening to a poem. It was pretty cold and I had my red jacket on, but I could still feel goose pumps rising on my arms and neck.

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?

It struck me how beautiful a gift it is – to be able to convey such strong emotions through words. I love the rhetoric style in which this poem is written. Oh, I so wish I could write as beautifully as this. Oh I wish..

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?

Ah! It’s so unbelievable. A poem written in 1794. As I walked home, I wondered if Blake had any idea that his words would be heard two hundred years later and inspire other souls.

I wondered to myself, after I’m gone, what will people remember me by ?

What about you boss? What will they remember you by?

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Scary thought, isn’t it ? Welcome to my world..

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