by William Blake
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 seize the fire?
And what shoulder, and what art,
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
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
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?
When the stars threw down their spears,
And watered 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?
We can never touch them,
so we love them from afar;
they are wild and distant --
the Tiger and the star.
We can never know them;
they are not what we are:
fire, fire, burning bright --
the tiger and the star.
by David Elliott
Have I mentioned recently how much I love teaching fourth grade, especially from February on? Well, I am and I do.
Earlier in the year, I shared Blake's "The Tyger" with my students, along with the way-cool video interpretation I first saw at Tabatha's blog, The Opposite of Indifference.
Our focus right now in Reading Workshop is "Reading to Learn." I decided to take a break from conferring and read alongside my students yesterday. I'm reading poetry to learn to be a better poet. I was sitting at a table with some students, reading David Elliott's IN THE WILD, and taking notes in my notebook when I came to his poem, "Tiger." I'm not sure why I never noticed it before, but I was struck by the way his poem made me think again about Blake's. (And I vowed that someday I, too, will write a poem that makes the reader think of a famous poem.)
S., whose favorite animal is the tiger, overheard me talking about the poem with N. (who tried a few dictionary poems with me in early April). He came over and told me about getting chills when he heard Blake's poem for the first time -- the part (and he quoted) "about 'Tyger, Tyger burning bright/in the forests of the night' " and also when he thought about the answer to the question of who made the tiger.
Well, of course it was then MY turn to get chills. I had no idea that "The Tyger" had made such an impression on S. Even after only one exposure, he could quote parts of it. And he, too, loved how Elliott had made a slantwise reference to Blake in his poem.
Fourth grade at the end of the year -- it doesn't get much better than that.
Elaine has the Poetry Friday roundup today at Wild Rose Reader.
