Tyger! Tyger! burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?
I said: 'Thou thing of patches, rings,
Pins, necklaces and suchlike things,
Disguiser of the female form,
Thou paltry, gilded poisonous worm!
The stars are threshed, and the souls are threshed from their husks.
William Blake« first previous
Page 19 of 19.
©gutesprueche.com
Data privacy
Imprint
Contact
Wir benutzen Cookies
Diese Website verwendet Cookies, um Ihnen die bestmögliche Funktionalität bieten zu können.