In a rich and fruitful land,—
The Chimney Sweeper (E) - Synopsis and commentary Synopsis of The Chimney Sweeper (E) The speaker sees a child chimney-sweep in winter, all black with soot, miserably crying ‘Weep!' In every voice, in every ban, p. When wolves and tigers howl for prey, Near where the chartered Thames does flow, Merry voice, On the grass they play; Little lamb, I’ll tell thee;
While most of the poems in the first half of the collection—see “Spring” or “Blossom” —tell of untouched innocence, “The Chimney Sweeper” introduces the tainting touch of experience.
To welcome the Spring;
For, washed in life’s river, The sweep's professional advertisement of his labour (‘[S]weep! For Mercy has a human heart;
O no! Fed with cold and usurous hand? And the maiden soon forgot her fear.
They clothed me in the clothes of death, If we did not make somebody poor,
34‘Turn away no more;
0000006273 00000 n When the silent sleep
‘Weep not for the maid;
That thousands of sweepers, Dick, Joe, Ned, and Jack,
Infant smiles are His own smiles;
Sees you, swift as arrow, 0000121697 00000 n 0000120876 00000 n Did He who made the lamb make thee?
I can lie down and sleep, In what distant deeps or skies p.
The Chimney Sweeper (E) - Language, tone and structure Language and tone Irony. In every infant’s cry of fear, Then he gambolled round Every blackening church appals,
Seven summers old And each sleeping bosom.
5Till the little ones, weary, So I piped: he wept to hear. p.
"The Chimney Sweeper" (from Songs of Innocence and Experience) Tekst/illustrasjoner: Brigid McCauley/Clipart.com Filosofiske spørsmål: Brigid McCauley Sist oppdatert: 13. februar 2004 Here are two of the best-known poems in this collection, both called "The Chimney Sweeper". Little boy, He led him by his little coat, A little black thing among the snow,
Besides, in the sky the little birds fly, 0000123590 00000 n And by came an angel, who had a bright key,
Think not thou canst weep a tear, hands. But, if at the Church they would give us some ale, And waters the ground with tears; O what sweet company!
I wander through each chartered street, 0000120160 00000 n ‘And we are put on earth a little space,
0000142956 00000 n In what furnace was thy brain? They think they have done me no injury, Who in sorrow pale, through the lonely dale, And the angel told Tom, if he’d be a good boy, A happy fly.
Or the summer fruits appear?
0000124879 00000 n With feet of weary woe; Hear the wren with sorrows small,
And to his mother brought,
0000014892 00000 n Sweet babe, in thy face
0000153639 00000 n He shall follow his sheep all the day, While the beasts of prey, 115 0 obj<>stream
0000006171 00000 n And everything else is still. 0000122300 00000 n And whisperings are in the dale, In a lonely dell,
How can the bird that is born for joy
Guarded by an Angel mild: That so many sweet flowers bore. Because he was happy and playful, they made him wretched.
O what a multitude they seemed, these flowers of London
44On his head a crown,
And Love, the human form divine: Merrily, merrily to welcome in the year. Who made up a heaven of our misery.’. Warbled out these metres meet: ‘Love seeketh only Self to please, Witless woe was ne’er beguiled! And he knew that it was mine,—.
There God is dwelling too. Then the dreadful light shall break. And smiled among the winter’s snow, In my palace deep, Chained in night, And tombstones where flowers should be; Little lamb, who made thee? Here I am; So do you; To the holy light, Ah, sunflower, weary of time,
door; 18And all must love the human form, Starry jealousy does keep my den Soon my Angel came again;
A couching lion lay. ‘Prisoned on watery shore,
And I wept both day and night, 0000003191 00000 n Gave thee life, and bid thee feed 60And it bears the fruit of Deceit, despite.’. William Blake 28 November 175712 August 1827 A boldly imaginative rebel in both his thought and art.
Marks of weakness, marks of woe.
On what wings dare he aspire? Till into the high dome of Paul’s they like Thames waters 0000137299 00000 n But I saw a glow-worm near, Nor sit in learning’s bower, In its thickest shade. Into the dangerous world I leapt, 21To keep them all from harm:
And thy Maker is not near. And thy Maker is not by: And I wrote my happy songs
The Chimney Sweeper Page 7 The Little Boy Lost Page 8 The Little Boy Found Page 8 The Divine Image Page 9 Holy Thursday Page 9 Infant Joy Page 10 The Blossom Page 11 Laughing Song Page 11 A Cradle Song Page 12 Night Page 13 A Dream Page 14 Nurses Song Page 14 Spring Page 15 SONGS OF EXPERIENCE Introduction Page 16 Earth’s Answer Page 16 The Clod and The Pebble Page 17 Holy …
And Mercy no more could be
How shall the summer arise in joy, trailer The child was wet with dew; What the hammer? The sun does arise,
O do not walk so fast!
Day and night, Pretty joy! So your chimneys I sweep, and in soot I sleep. Sweet dreams of pleasant streams And her thorns were my only delight. Does thou know who made thee,
Such usage in heaven will never do well.
To caves the sleeping maid.
And silent by them stands.
In the forests of the night, So I turned to the Garden of Love All creation slept and smiled.
By the stream and o’er the mead; And Secrecy the human dress.
And we cannot go to sleep; Bowed his mane of gold.
In the howling storm. In our youth-time were seen
0000143392 00000 n
By happy, silent, moony beams! Saying, “Come out from the grove, my love and care,