Tiger, tiger, burning bright
On the roadways of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?
In what distant factories
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wheels dare he aspire?
What the hand dare start thy fire?
And what shoulder and what art
Could twist the metal of thy heart?
And when thy motor starts to beat,
What dread butt would take thy seat?
What the sprocket? What the chain?
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the rider? What dread clasp?
Dare your deadly throttle grasp?
When the stars threw down their gears,
And waterÌd heaven with their tears,
Did He smile His work to see?
Did He who made the Bonnie make thee?
Tiger, tiger, burning bright
On the roadways of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?
Sorry, I got all inspired when I ordered my new Tiger. :D
I'm sure Bill B. wouldn't mind. Probably grateful he's been remembered.
Bloody hell...poetry.