Tyger! Tyger! Burning bright, In the forests of the night, Doth a frightened piglet hide Inside thy outward fearsome pride? |
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In what distant deeps or skies Burnt the lustfire of thine eyes? With what "schwings" do you aspire? With which hand dare seize desire? |
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What soft shoulder, on yon tart, Could stiff thy shlong and beat thy heart? And when thy heart pumped up thy meat, Tyger, Tyger, got cold feet? |
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