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 and what art Could twist the sinews of thy heart? And, when thy heart began to beat, What dread hand? and 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?

always struggled to make sense of the word symm e TRY. *smirk* (apologies worlfie, feeling silly today)

stacey, so have i, actually! am glad you're in a good mood!!

come back, come back, happy Stacey! more, more, Wolf! Out, out, damned spot!

sorry, am uninspired here lately, but i'll see if i can find more blake! (which is probably what you meant)

I meant whatever I can get...

haha!

Reading, "The Tyger", brought back memories. When I was very little, my father used to recite that poem at bedtime. I've always liked it, but I thought it was something he made up.

it was one i had to memorize for high school english. it's one of my faves....

I'm glad it is in print. Now I can get a copy.

Shall I post Jerusalem or does someone have it handy? (Gonna have to hunt for mind amidst the clutter.)

I cannot find mine but will rifle the Episcopal hymnal for it. That was the hymn they singing at the end of "Chariots of Fire" It is mystical and magic and very Ennglish. I adore it!

Jerusalem (From 'The Preface' to 'Milton') (Notes:) And did those feet in ancient time Walk upon England's mountains green? And was the holy Lamb of God On England's pleasant pastures seen? And did the Countenance Divine Shine forth upon our clouded hills? And was Jerusalem builded here Among these dark satanic mills? Bring me my bow of burning gold; Bring me my arrows of desire; Bring me my spear; O clouds, unfold! Bring me my chariot of fire! I will not cease from mental fight, Nor shall my sword sleep in my hand, Till we have built Jerusalem In England's green and pleasant land. These Hypertext pages are based on a Helpfile created by Richard Dover. HTMreaLisation and maintenance by Medwyn Jones This page last modified 05/04/95 http://io.newi.ac.uk/rdover/blake/jersalem.htm

cool!!

Blake is too good to be languishing un posted. I am trying to find his Stonehenge poem next - but I am on the laptop (W3.1) in the other room, so I will post it later. I wanted Jerusalam to be here this morning as a surprise for you.

This is an important site for all Blake enthusiasts; it contains the text for all of this works - and some are pretty lengthy. http://virtual.park.uga.edu/nhilton/Blake/blaketxt1/

thanks for that url!

Which poetry topic needs my help next?

*grin* well, do you know any cures for writer's block? i seem to be stuck in one that just won't quit!

what do you usually use for inspiriation, Wolf?

Wer's right. I go into the woods or to the ocean or to the volcano for my inspiration. Others have gone to the bottle (not a good idea, I think!) Then you sometimes have to make yourself start writing...anything...throw it away and begin again. It will return!

no bottles for me....i have to find something that touches my soul, my heart....and lately, i've been stressed from work and stuff....but it'll come back, i know it will....

You are not only gifted, you are also wise. Less stress and distraction will indeed bring back your muse.

plus, with the new action in here, maybe you can dance with someone's elses while you wait for yours...

Wolf, my muse, Rocky, is all yours for the duration!

haha!! thanks guys *hugs*

SONGS OF INNOCENCE By William Blake Introduction Piping down the valleys wild, Piping songs of pleasant glee, On a cloud I saw a child, And he laughing said to me: "Pipe a song about a Lamb!" So I piped with merry chear. "Piper, pipe that song again" So I piped, he wept to hear. "Drop thy pipe, thy happy pipe; Sing thy songs of happy chear- So I sung the same again, While he wept with joy to hear. "Piper, sit thee down and write In a book, that all may read." So he vanish'd from my sight, And I pluck'd a hollow reed, And I made a rural pen, And I stain'd the water clear, And I wrote my happy songs Every child may joy to hear.

I like William Blake...I think I shall post some more... The Sheperd How sweet is the Shepherd's sweet lot! From the morn to the evening he strays; He shall follows his sheep all the day, And his tongue shall be filled with praise. For he hears the lamb's innocent call, And he hears the ewe's tender reply; He is watchful while they are in peace, For they know when their Shepherd is nigh. Infant Joy "I have no name: I am but two days old." What shall I call thee:' "I happy am, Joy is my name." Sweet joy befall thee! Pretty joy! Sweet joy, but two days old. Sweet joy I call thee: Thou dost smile, I sing the while, Sweet joy befall thee!