The Mudcat Café TM
Thread #172076   Message #4163724
Posted By: Joe Offer
27-Jan-23 - 08:36 PM
Thread Name: Songs about chimney climbing boys
Subject: ADD Poem: The Chimney Sweeper (Wm. Blake)
Here's a fascinating article about Chimney Sweeps and Climbing Boys:

The article makes mention of the poem "The Chimney Sweep," written by poet William Blake in the 1780s.

From https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Chimney_Sweeper:

THE CHIMNEY SWEEPER
(William Blake)

"The Chimney Sweeper" (from Songs of Innocence, 1789)

When my mother died I was very young,
And my father sold me while yet my tongue,
Could scarcely cry weep weep weep weep.[a]
So your chimneys I sweep & in soot I sleep.

There's little Tom Dacre, who cried when his head
That curled like a lambs 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.
Tho' the morning was cold, Tom was happy & warm,
So if all do their duty, they need not fear harm.

"The Chimney Sweeper" (from Songs 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 and 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.


[a] The child's lisping attempt at the word "Sweep".

Analysis of William Blake's 'The Chimney Sweeper' (Both poems - Innocence and Experience): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DDjrP5IItvE