The Poetry Corner

The Chimney Sweeper (Songs Of Innocence )

By William Blake

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 & in soot I sleep. Theres little Tom Dacre, who cried when his head That curled like a lambs back was shavd, so I said. Hush Tom never mind it, for when your heads bare, You know that the soot cannot spoil your white hair And so he was quiet. & that very night. As Tom was a sleeping he had such a sight That thousands of sweepers Dick, Joe, Ned, & Jack Were all of them lockd up in coffins of black, And by came an Angel who had a bright key And he opend the coffins & 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 & white, all their bags left behind. They rise upon clouds, and sport in the wind. And the Angel told Tom, if hed be a good boy, Hed have God for his father & never want joy. And so Tom awoke and we rose in the dark And got with our bags & our brushes to work. Tho the morning was cold, Tom was happy & warm So if all do their duty, they need not fear harm.