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Unformatted text preview: WILLIAM BLAKE [1757—1827] The Lamb Little Lamb, who made thee?
Dost thou know who made thee?
Gave thee life & bid thee feed,
By the stream & o’er the mead;
Gave thee clothing of delight, 5
Softest clothing wooly bright;
Gave thee such a tender voice,
Making all the vales rejoice!
Little Lamb who made thee?
Dost thou know who made thee? 10 Little Lamb I’ll tell thee,
Little Lamb I'll tell thee!
He is called by thy name,
For he calls himself a Lamb:
He is meek & he is mild, 15
He became a little child:
I a child & thou a lamb,
We are called by his name.
Little Lamb God bless thee.
. Little Lamb God bless thee. 20  486 BLAKE / THE TYGER WILLIAM BLAKE [1757—1827] The Tyger Tyger, Tyger, burning bn'ght 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, «St what art, Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand? & 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? Tyger, Tyger, burning bright In the forests of the night, What immortal hand or eye Dare frame thy fearful symmetry? ...
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- Spring '08