I love to rise in a summer morn, When the birds sing on every tree;
The Sun does arise, And make happy the skies.
When my mother died I was very young, And my father sold me while yet my tongue,
I was angry with my friend; I told my wrath, my wrath did end.
Awake, awake my little Boy! Thou wast thy Mother's only joy:
O Rose thou art sick. The invisible worm.
Never seek to tell thy love, Love that never told can be;
I wander thro' each charter'd street. Near where the charter'd Thames does flow
Tyger Tyger. burning bright, In the forests of the night;
Little Lamb, who made thee Does thou know who made thee
I went to the Garden of Love. And saw what I never had seen:
A little black thing among the snow: Crying weep, weep, in notes of woe!
Tiger Tiger, burning bright, In the forests of the night;
I love to rise in a summer morn, When the birds sing on every tree;
The Sun does arise, And make happy the skies.
When my mother died I was very young, And my father sold me while yet my tongue,
I was angry with my friend; I told my wrath, my wrath did end.
Awake, awake my little Boy! Thou wast thy Mother's only joy:
O Rose thou art sick. The invisible worm.
Never seek to tell thy love, Love that never told can be;
I wander thro' each charter'd street. Near where the charter'd Thames does flow
Tyger Tyger. burning bright, In the forests of the night;
Little Lamb, who made thee Does thou know who made thee
I went to the Garden of Love. And saw what I never had seen:
A little black thing among the snow: Crying weep, weep, in notes of woe!
Tiger Tiger, burning bright, In the forests of the night;