India in Texas

Tiger! Tiger! roaming light,

in the suburbs of the night,

what immortal watchmen’s eyes,

could frame your fearful symmetry?


In what distant suburban park,

do you lurk here in the dark?

What if we to take to skies,

and spy the tiger with our eyes?


What the bullhorn, and the chains,

to capture roaming feline again?

Say the least of tranquil sleep,

would be the best to not compete,

with roaring eyes and pointed teeth!


And when pleiades lit the skies,

raining down with much surprise,

did they smile their work to see,

did they whom make them; make thee?


Tiger! Tiger! roaming light,

in the suburbs of the night,

what immortal watchmen’s eyes,

could frame your fearful symmetry?

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