I

THE GARDEN OF LOVE.

WENT to the garden of Love,

And saw what I never had seen;

A Chapel was built in the midst,
Where I used to play on the green:

And the gates of this chapel were shut,
And "Thou shalt not" writ over the door;

So I turn'd to the garden of Love
That so many sweet flowers bore;

And I saw it was fill'd with graves

And tombstones where flowers should be:

And priests in black gowns were walking their rounds, And binding with briars my joys and desires.

Then am I

A happy fly,

If I live

Or if I die.

THE TIGER.

IGER, tiger, burning bright

TIGE

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?