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Kuvakäsikirjoitus Teksti

  • 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 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, & that very night, As Tom was a-sleeping he has such a sight! That thousands of sweepers, Dick, Joe, Ned, & Jack, Were all locked up in coffins of black.
  • And by came an Angel who had a bright key, and he opened 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 and white, all there bags left behind, They rise upon the clouds, and sport the wind. And the angel told tom if he'd be a good for 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. Though the morning was cold, Tom was happy & warm; So if all do their duty, they need not fear harm.
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