A Comforting Thought

Now, I am not a huge fan of poetry, nor tend to pay much thought into the world of poetry. However, there is one poet who's work I simply adore, the great William Blake. Every morning, before I go off to work at Timmy Hoes for eight hours, I take some time to read a poem by William Blake. This morning I read this wonderful poem called The Chimney Sweeper, in which I wish to share with everyone who actually reads this blog:


The Chimney Sweeper(Songs of Innocence)

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.

There's little Tom Dacre, who cried when his head,
That curl'd llke a lamb's 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 or 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.

Is that not a comforting thought that at the end of your life, no matter how bad it is, there is hope of peace through death. Shakespeare's sonnets are still far better than any poem. Fare thee well.