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, Theres little Tom Dacre, who cried when his head That curl'd like a lambs back, was shav'd, 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 lock'd up in coffins of black, And by came an Angel who had a bright key, And he open'd 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. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO A SOLITARY DISCIPLE by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS THE BALLAD OF WILLIAM SYCAMORE (1790-1880) by STEPHEN VINCENT BENET THE WIND'S VISIT by EMILY DICKINSON THE VICTOR AT ANTIETAM [SEPTEMBER 17, 1862] by HERMAN MELVILLE FOOTLIGHT MOTIFS: 4. NATALIE ALT by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS IN THE FOREST by JOHANNA AMBROSIUS |