Tiger, Tiger, Flammenpracht,
In den Wäldren düstrer Nacht!
Sprich, wess Gottes Aug 'und Hand,
Dich so furchtbar schön verband?
Welche Stärke, welche Kunst,
Wob so sinnreich Herzensbrunst?
Als dein Herz den Puls empfand
Welch' ein Fuss? und welche Hand?
Aus den Sternen flog der Speer,
Thränend ward der Himmel Meer:
Schaut' er lächelnd da auf dich?
Der das lamm schuf, schuf er dich?
[It is well to read these poems together since, as Crabb Robinson justly says, we cannot better set forth the many-sided gifts of our poet than by following up this singularly delicate and simple poem, Holy Thursday, with this truly inspired and original description of the Tiger.]
Of the allegorical poems we prefer to give one which we think we understand, rather than one which is to us wholly incomprehensible. The following Song of Experience probably represents man after the loss of his innocence, as, bound by the commandment and the priests its servants, he looks back longing to his earlier state, where before was no commandment, no duty, and nought save love and voluntary sacrifice.
The Garden of Love.
I 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.