On either side of the river lie Long fields of barley and of rye,
That clothe the wold and meet the sky;
And through the field the road runs by.
A slumber did my spirit steal;
I had no human fears:
She seemed a thing that could not feel The touch of earthly years.
Tyger! Tyger! burning bright In the forest of the night,
What immortal hand or eye Could frame thy fearful symmetry1
The Pride of the Peacock is the Glory of God;
The lust of the goat is the bounty of God;
The wrath of the lion is the wisdom of God;
The nakedness of woman is the work of God.
God be merciful unto us, and bless us;
And shew us the light of his countenance,
And be merciful to us.
Book of Common Prayer
The lord shall preserve thy going out,
And thy coming in,
From this time forth,
And even for evermore.