The document contains four poems by William Blake: "A Poison Tree", "The Lamb", "The Tiger", and an excerpt from "The Lamb" repeated at the end. The poems contrast humanity's capacity for anger and violence ("A Poison Tree", "The Tiger") with innocence and gentleness ("The Lamb"). They explore the duality of human nature and our relationship with the divine.

1. I was angry with my friend:
I told my wrath, my wrath did end.
I was angry with my foe:
A Poison Tree I told it not, my wrath did grow.
By William Blake
And I watered it in fears,
Night and morning with my tears;
And I sunned it with smiles,
And with soft deceitful wiles.
And it grew both day and night,
Till it bore an apple bright.
And my foe beheld it shine.
And he knew that it was mine,
And into my garden stole
When the night had veiled the pole;
In the morning glad I see
My foe outstretched beneath the tree.

2. Little Lamb, who made thee?
Dost thou know who made
thee?
Gave thee life, and bid thee feed
The Lamb By the stream and o'er the mead;
By William Blake Gave thee clothing of delight,
Softest clothing, woolly, bright;
Gave thee such a tender voice,
Making all the vales rejoice?
Little Lamb, who made thee?
Dost thou know who made
thee?
Little Lamb, I'll tell thee,
Little Lamb, I'll tell thee:
He is called by thy name,
For he calls himself a Lamb.
He is meek, and he is mild;
He became a little child.
I a child, and thou a lamb.
We are called by his name.
Little Lamb, God bless thee!
Little Lamb, God bless thee!

3. 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
The Tiger Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
By William Blake On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand dare sieze the fire?
And what shoulder, & what art.
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand? & 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?

4. Tyger! Tyger! burning bright
Little Lamb, who made thee? In the forests of the night,
Dost thou know who made What immortal hand or eye
thee? Could frame thy fearful symmetry?
Gave thee life, and bid thee feed In what distant deeps or skies
By the stream and o'er the mead; Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
Gave thee clothing of delight, On what wings dare he aspire?
Softest clothing, woolly, bright;
What the hand dare sieze the fire?
Gave thee such a tender voice,
And what shoulder, & what art.
Making all the vales rejoice? Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
Little Lamb, who made thee? And when thy heart began to beat,
Dost thou know who made What dread hand? & what dread feet?
thee?
What the hammer? what the chain?
Little Lamb, I'll tell thee, In what furnace was thy brain?
Little Lamb, I'll tell thee: What the anvil? what dread grasp
He is called by thy name, Dare its deadly terrors clasp?
For he calls himself a Lamb.
He is meek, and he is mild; When the stars threw down their spears,
He became a little child. And watered heaven with their tears,
Did he smile his work to see?
I a child, and thou a lamb. Did he who made the Lamb make thee?
We are called by his name.
Little Lamb, God bless thee! Tyger! Tyger! burning bright
Little Lamb, God bless thee! In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?