Tiger Tiger Burning Bright - a poem read to me by my Dad

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	5
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?	10
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	15
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?	20
Tiger, tiger, burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?

                                                          Willam Blake 

                                                       English Poet William Blake 

this was the first poem recited to me (or at least I can remember) when I was a toddler by my father, Geoffrey. I was too young to understand the significance of poetry, inner meanings, innuendoes and implications as a young child (I think I remember this from 5 years old) but now 50 years on, my mind is able to take a broader and more mature understanding of this poem.

Geoffrey Abisheganden

circa 1965