The Chimney-sweeper

A little black thing among the snow，
Crying `'weep！ 'weep！' in notes of woe1！

`Where are thy father and mother， say？'

`They are both gone up to the Church to pray

`Because I was happy upon the heath，

And smil'd among the winter's snow，

They clothd me in the clothes of death，

And taught me to sing the notes of woe.

`And because I am happy and dance and sing，

They think they have done me no injury，

And are gone to praise God and His Priest and King，

Who make up a Heaven of our misery2.'