The Tiger.

        In the still jungle of the senses lay
        A tiger soundly sleeping, till one day
        A bold young hunter chanced to come that way.

        "How calm," he said, "that splendid creature lies!
        I long to rouse him into swift surprise."
        The well aimed arrow shot from amorous eyes,

        And lo! the tiger rouses up and turns,
        A coal of fire his glowing eyeball burns,
        His mighty frame with savage hunger yearns.

        He crouches for a spring; his eyes dilate -
        Alas! bold hunter, what shall be thy fate?
        Thou canst not fly; it is too late, too late.

        Once having tasted human flesh, ah! then,
        Woe, woe unto the whole rash world of men.
        The wakened tiger will not sleep again.

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Ella Wheeler Wilcox was an American author and poet, born on November 5, 1850, and died on October 30, 1919. She was known for her works expressing optimistic views and moral lessons. Her most famous book was 'Poems of Passion'. Her poem 'Solitude' contains the famous lines, 'Laugh, and the world laughs with you; weep, and you weep alone'. Over her career, Wilcox became popularly known as a 'people's poet'.

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Gethsemane

Ella Wheeler Wilcox, Simple Poetry

The Truth Teller

Ella Wheeler Wilcox, Simple Poetry

Love's Coming.

Ella Wheeler Wilcox, Simple Poetry

The Bridal Kiss

Ella Wheeler Wilcox, Simple Poetry

English

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A Wakeful Night

In the dark and the gloom when winds were fretting
    Like restless children worn out with play,
I said to my heart, 'This task, forgetting -
    Is harder now than it is by day.
For a hungry love that hides from the light,
Like a tiger steals forth, and is bold at night.'

The wind wailed low like a woman weeping;
    Deeper and darker the dense gloom grew.
And, oh! for the old, sweet nights of sleeping,
    When dreams were happy, and love was true.
Before the stars from heaven went out
In a sudden blackness of dread and doubt.

The wind wailed loud, like a madman shrieking,
    And I said to my heart, 'Oh! vain, vain strife;
We cannot forget, and the peace we are seeking
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Tiger And Elephant.

        On Ganges banks roams the tiger,
        And lion rules by the Niger,
        Hunter heard shrill cry of peacocks,
        In Indian jungles go in flocks.

        And he saw tiger crouch and spring,
        To crush a bird with beauteous wing,
        But the tiger missed his aim,
        And he hung his head with shame.

        Then there came a mighty crush,
        Of elephants rush through the bush,
        The tiger cat-like crouched on ground,
        And elephants rushed in with bound.

        In front was baby elephant,
        To crush its bones did tiger want,
        But mother saw fierce forest ranger,
        And she gave a cry of danger.

        Leader of herd he madly rushed,
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James McIntyre

Tiger - Tiger!

What of the hunting, hunter bold?
Brother, the watch was long and cold.
What of the quarry ye went to kill?
Brother, he crops in the jungle still.
Where is the power that made your pride?
Brother, it ebbs from my flank and side.
Where is the haste that ye hurry by?
Brother, I go to my lair to die!

Rudyard

The Tiger

Tiger, tiger, 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 and what art
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And, when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand and 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?

Tiger, tiger, burning bright
In the forests of the night,

William Blake

To A Caged Lion

Poor conquered monarch! though that haughty glance
Still speaks thy courage unsubdued by time,
And in the grandeur of thy sullen tread
Lives the proud spirit of thy burning clime; -
Fettered by things that shudder at thy roar,
Torn from thy pathless wilds to pace this narrow floor!

Thou wast the victor, and all nature shrunk
Before the thunders of thine awful wrath;
The steel-armed hunter viewed thee from afar,
Fearless and trackless in thy lonely path!
The famished tiger closed his flaming eye,
And crouched and panted as thy step went by!

Thou art the vanquished, and insulting man
Bars thy broad bosom as a sparrow's wing;
His nerveless arms thine iron sinews bind,
And lead in chains the desert's fallen king;
Are these the beings that have dared to...

Oliver Wendell Holmes

The Hunter's Vision.

Upon a rock that, high and sheer,
Rose from the mountain's breast,
A weary hunter of the deer
Had sat him down to rest,
And bared to the soft summer air
His hot red brow and sweaty hair.

All dim in haze the mountains lay,
With dimmer vales between;
And rivers glimmered on their way,
By forests faintly seen;
While ever rose a murmuring sound,
From brooks below and bees around.

He listened, till he seemed to hear
A strain, so soft and low,
That whether in the mind or ear
The listener scarce might know.
With such a tone, so sweet and mild,
The watching mother lulls her child.

"Thou weary huntsman," thus it said,
"Thou faint with toil and heat,
The pleasant land of rest is spread
Before thy very feet,
And those whom ...

William Cullen Bryant