The Chimney Sweeper

When I was a Cart, I wrote a song,
And a beautiful thought began to unfold;
“What, I thought, if the mountains were blue,
What if the woods and waters were gold?”
In radiant laughter the heavens did sing,
As I roved through the valleys, in search for a king.
But where were the flowers of innocence,
And the laughter of youth and its sway?
With chains and bare feet,
A chiming bell haunts my play.
Let the wind be our friend,
Let the rivers roll free!
For in nature’s hand,
We embrace our destiny.

• William Blake