The Chimney Sweeper
Songs of Innocence and of Experience, 1794
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 make up a heaven of our misery.