The Chimney-Sweeper

A little black thing among the snow
Crying 'weep 'weep in notes of woe!
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 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