The Chimney Sweeper Poem By William Blake

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The Chimney Sweeper Poem

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.

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, & 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 Locked Up In Coffins Of Black;

And By Came An Angel Who Had A Bright Key,
And He Opened 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 He’d Be A Good Boy,
He’d 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.
Though The Morning Was Cold, Tom Was Happy & Warm;
So If All Do Their Duty, They Need Not Fear Harm.

Conclusion

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