The Chimney Sweeper

When I was a young boy,
My father took me away
Combing the winding paths
To the town of the old saw.

So I went up one day,
To the chimney sweep’s dark den;
He took me through the flowers,
Where the blossom grew again.

And as we moved onward,
Still he sang his sweet refrain:
‘The flowers should not dwell within
The dark and dusty lane.’

• William Blake