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The Anagram Times
A songagram
by Tony Crafter
See more songagramsThe Tiger (William Blake)
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The Tiger
By William Blake
Tiger, tiger, 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 water'd heaven with their tears,
Did He smile His work to see?
Did He who made the lamb make thee?
Tiger, tiger, burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?= Battered Tiger
(That Hanky-Panky, Lawn-Stud Yank).
Tiger, Tiger, in a whirl,
Had a fair way with the girls,
Now that game has run it's course,
He's in the rough - maybe divorce?
What a swinging time he'd had!
What a ball! Hah! What a cad!
Swedish wife, blonde, bright and trim,
Why wasn't that enough for him?
Wife is harsh, the man's in tatters,
Lost the trophy that most matters,
And every birdie that he met's
An albatross around his neck.
From far and wide they all appear,
Strewth! How many are there here?
One, two, three, four... huh?... nine ten!
When did he find time for them?
Ruffled Tiger, shrewd yet green,
The aftermath he hadn't seen,
Nor remembered he was wedded
When each pretty bird he bedded.
Zesty Tiger, in a whirl,
Had a fair way with the girls,
All that effort to be Master,
Frittered, shattered, what disaster.