So much to catch up on

For instance, did you know that April is National Poetry Month? Oh, you did? Me too. Really.

So, slacker that I am, here's my first poetry post, William Blake's "The Tyger".

Tyger! Tyger! 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 sieze the fire?

And what shoulder, & 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?

I don't remember when I first read this poem, although I must have been around 17, the summer before senior year of highschool. I took AP English with Mrs. Taylor (whom I adored!) and she told us all that we had to pick several poems and memorzie them. No other disclaimers, no suggestions, just pick them and know them. (I can not, for the life of me, remember the other poems, but this one stuck, probably because I loved it before I started memorizing it.) We studied it later on that semester, and I remember thinking that it was amazing, that someone could write about the Industrial Revolution like this:

What the hammer? what the chain?
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? what dread grasp
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?

I don't think I ever would have figured that out on my own, but then, I wasn't much for reading in to poetry then (nor am I now). If I read the poem and I liked the words, or the way it sounded, then that was fine for me (and still is). I really can't remember more than the first stanza of this poem, as that was always my favorite, but I think Mrs. Taylor would forgive me.

(Mrs. Taylor, if you ever read this, please forgive me. I know you said we had to memorize them and remember them, but, clearly, I've failed. I still have my copy of "Brideshead Revisted" that you gave me though.)