Sunday, November 23, 2008

the chimney sweeper

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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.

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