The Chimney-Sweeper (Experience)

 A little black thing among the snow:
Crying weep, weep, in notes of woe!
Where are thy father & mother? say?
They are both gone up to the church to pray.


Because I was happy upon the heath.

And smil'd among the winters snow:
They clothed me in the clothes of death.

And taught me to sing the notes of woe.


And because I am happy.
 & dance & sing.

They think they have done me no injury:
And are gone to praise God & his Priest & King,
Who made up a heaven of our misery.

Biography | Poems | Best Poems | Short Poems | Quotes | Email Poem |

Poems are below...