And what immortal hand or eye
Could frame his fearful symmetry?
And does he try to bite?
Yes, I have caught the tiger,
And he was hard to catch.
O tiger, tiger, do not try
To put your tail into my eye,
And do not bite and scratch.
Yes, I have caught the tiger.
O tiger, do not bray!
And what immortal hand or eye
Could frame his fearful symmetry
I should not like to say.
And may I see the tiger?
I should indeed delight
To see so large an animal
Without a voyage to Bengal
And mind you hold him tight.
Yes, you may see the tiger;
It will amuse you much.
The tiger is, as you will find,
A creature of the feline kind.
And mind you do not touch.
And do you feed the tiger,
And do you keep him clean?
He has a less contented look
Than in the Natural History book,
And seems a trifle lean.
Oh yes, I feed the tiger,
And soon he will be plump;
I give him groundsel fresh and sweet,
And much canary-seed to eat,
And wash him at the pump.
It seems to me the tiger
Has not been lately fed,
Not for a day or two at least;
And that is why the noble beast
Has bitten off your head.
