And so he was quiet, and that very night,
And he opened the coffins, and set them all free;
And wash in a river, and shine in the sun.
You know that the soot cannot spoil your white hair.'
And got with our bags and our brushes to work.
Then down a green plain, leaping, laughing, they run
There's little Tom Dacre, who cried when his head,
'Hush, Tom! never mind it, for, when your head's bare,
So your chimneys I sweep, and in soot I sleep.
He'd have God for his father, and never want joy.
Were all of them locked up in coffins of black.
They rise upon clouds, and sport in the wind:
And the angel told Tom, if he'd be a good boy,
Though the morning was cold, Tom was happy and warm:
When my mother died I was very young,
As Tom was a-sleeping, he had such a sight!—
From Songs of Innocence
And my father sold me while yet my tongue
And by came an angel, who had a bright key,
That curled like a lamb's back, was shaved; so I said,
And so Tom awoke, and we rose in the dark,
Then naked and white, all their bags left behind,
Could scarcely cry 'Weep! weep! weep! weep!'
That thousands of sweepers, Dick, Joe, Ned, and Jack,
So, if all do their duty, they need not fear harm.