James finally reviews The Tyger by William Blake! The Tyger (or, The Tiger) is a beautifully haunting poem that he hopes you think of if every you come across the "fearful symmetry" of a tyger.

Here is the poem:

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, & 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 water'd 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?

And here is a link to the original engraving of the poem by William Blake, courtesy of the William Blake Archive:

https://www.blakearchive.org/images/songsie.n.p8-42.100.jpg

James celebrates the passing of one season to the next with a poem, "Spring, the sweet spring". As he notes in the introduction of the episode, the audio was recorded live and unscripted, so there are imperfections. Live recording, however, ensures that all of the thoughts you hear are created on-the-spot, which is a fun way of peering into the soul based off of what it chooses to focus on.

Here is the poem:

Spring, the sweet spring, is the year’s pleasant king,

Then blooms each thing, then maids dance in a ring,

Cold doth not sting, the pretty birds do sing:

Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo!

The palm and may make country houses gay,

Lambs frisk and play, the shepherds pipe all day,

And we hear aye birds tune this merry lay:

Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo!

The fields breathe sweet, the daisies kiss our feet,

Young lovers meet, old wives a-sunning sit,

In every street these tunes our ears do greet:

Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to witta-woo!

Spring, the sweet spring!

James analyzes one of William Blake's poems, The Lamb. He thinks about the complex topics in the poem and how they are represented as simple questions with accompanying answers. It's odd that he should review a lesser-known poem written by William Blake, considering that The Tyger is much more famous.

Here is the poem:

Little Lamb who made thee

Dost thou know who made thee

Gave thee life & bid thee feed.

By the stream & o'er the mead;

Gave thee clothing of delight,

Softest clothing wooly 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 & he is mild,

He became a little child:

I a child & thou a lamb,

We are called by his name.

Little Lamb God bless thee.

Little Lamb God bless thee.

And here is a link to the William Blake Archive to view his engraving of The Lamb:
https://www.blakearchive.org/copy/s-inn.b?descId=s-inn.b.illbk.29