The Chimney-Sweeper
When my mother died I was very young,And my father sold me while yet my tongueCould scarcely cry "Weep! weep! weep! weep!"So your chimneys I sweep, and in soot I sleep.
There's little Tom Dacre, who cried when his head,That curled like a lamb's back, was shaved; 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, and that very night,As Tom was a-sleeping, he had such a sight!--That thousands of sweepers, Dick, Joe, Ned, and Jack,Were all of them locked up in coffins of black.
And by came an angel, who had a bright key,And he opened the coffins, and let them all free;Then down a green plain, leaping, laughing, they run,And wash in a river, and shine in the sun.
Then naked and 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, and never want joy.
And so Tom awoke, and we rose in the dark,And got with our bags and our brushes to work.Though the morning was cold, Tom was happy and warm:So, if all do their duty, they need not fear harm.
About this text
The Chimney-Sweeper is in the public domain. This text is taken from Poems of William Blake, Project Gutenberg ebook #574; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: William Blake, The Chimney-Sweeper, in Poems of William Blake (1783–1794), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #574, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/blake-poems/the-chimney-sweeper.html, id L01987.
Form and metre
The Chimney-Sweeper is 24 lines in 6 stanzas of 4 lines each. The rhyme scheme is AABB, complete in 5 of its 6 stanzas. The metre is anapaestic tetrameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 83%). 91% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 10.9 syllables.
See other poems in anapaestic tetrameter.
Measured by Laurel's pipeline, not copied from a handbook: how stress and metre are counted, how rhyme is lettered, how a drifted rhyme is found. Where the dictionary cannot confirm a rhyme the letter is withheld, not guessed.
Rhyme words, stanza by stanza
The word that ends each line, lettered by the rhyme it makes; a dash is a line whose rhyme the dictionary could not confirm.
- 1 AABB youngA · tongueA · weepB · sleepB
- 2 AABB headA · saidA · bareB · hairB
- 3 AABB nightA · sightA · jackB · blackB
- 4 AABB keyA · freeA · runB · sunB
- 5 AABB behindA · windA · boyB · joyB
Scansion, line by line
Each line with its syllable count and the stresses the words themselves fix: / stressed, ˘ unstressed, · a syllable the word leaves free and the metre decides. Read against anapaestic tetrameter. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| When my mother died I was very young, | 10 | ··/˘···/˘· |
| And my father sold me while yet my tongue | 10 | ··/˘······ |
| Could scarcely cry "Weep! weep! weep! weep!" | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| So your chimneys I sweep, and in soot I sleep. | 11 | ··/˘······· |
| There's little Tom Dacre, who cried when his head, | 10 | ·/˘······· |
| That curled like a lamb's back, was shaved; so I said, | 11 | ··········· |
| "Hush, Tom! never mind it, for, when your head's bare, | 11 | ··/˘······· |
| You know that the soot cannot spoil your white hair." | 11 | ·····/˘···· |
| And so he was quiet, and that very night, | 11 | ····/˘··/˘· |
| As Tom was a-sleeping, he had such a sight!-- | 11 | ····/˘····· |
| That thousands of sweepers, Dick, Joe, Ned, and Jack, | 11 | ·/˘·/˘····· |
| Were all of them locked up in coffins of black. | 11 | ·······/˘·· |
| And by came an angel, who had a bright key, | 11 | ····/˘····· |
| And he opened the coffins, and let them all free; | 12 | ··/˘·/˘····· |
| Then down a green plain, leaping, laughing, they run, | 11 | ·····/˘/˘·· |
| And wash in a river, and shine in the sun. | 11 | ····/˘····· |
| Then naked and white, all their bags left behind, | 11 | ·/˘········ |
| They rise upon clouds, and sport in the wind; | 10 | ·········· |
| And the Angel told Tom, if he'd be a good boy, | 12 | ··/˘········ |
| He'd have God for his father, and never want joy. | 11 | ·····/˘·/·· |
| And so Tom awoke, and we rose in the dark, | 11 | ···˘/······ |
| And got with our bags and our brushes to work. | 11 | ···/··//˘·· |
| Though the morning was cold, Tom was happy and warm: | 12 | ··/˘····/˘·· |
| So, if all do their duty, they need not fear harm. | 12 | ·····/˘····· |
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