THE CHIMNEY SWEEPER

William Blake 1757-1827

When my mother died I was very young, 

And my father sold me while yet my tongue 

Could scarcely cry "weep! 'weep! 'weep! 'weep!" 

So your chimneys I sweep and in soot I sleep. 

There's little Tom Dacre, who cried when his head 

That curled like a lamb's back, was shaved, so I said, 

"Hush, Tom! never mind it, for when your head's bare, 

You know that the soot cannot spoil your white hair." 

And so he was quiet, and that very night, 

As Tom was a-sleeping he had such a sight! 

That thousands of sweepers, Dick, Joe, Ned, and Jack, 

Were all of them locked up in coffins of black; 

And by came an Angel who had a bright key, 

And he opened the coffins and set them all free; 

Then down a green plain, leaping, laughing they run, 

And wash in a river and shine in the Sun. 

Then naked and white, all their bags left behind, 

They rise upon clouds, and sport in the wind. 

And the Angel told Tom, if he'd be a good boy, 

He'd have God for his father and never want joy. 

And so Tom awoke; and we rose in the dark 

And got with our bags and our brushes to work. 

Though the morning was cold, Tom was happy and warm; 

So if all do their duty, they need not fear harm. 

 Blake was an English poet, painter, and printmaker. His fame didn't come to him in his lifetime but he is now considered to have been an important figure in the history of the poetry and paintings
 of the Romantic Age.

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