Thursday, January 31, 2013

Poetry

Since I posted a white thing poem, now I have to post a black thing poem.  I like this one, and the message it is portraying.  Here goes.


The Chimney Sweeper: A little black thing among the snow

By William Blake
A little black thing among the snow,
Crying "weep! 'weep!" in notes of woe!
"Where are thy father and mother? say?"
"They are both gone up to the church to pray.

Because I was happy upon the heath,
And smil'd among the winter's snow,
They clothed me in the clothes of death,
And taught me to sing the notes of woe.

And because I am happy and dance and sing,
They think they have done me no injury,
And are gone to praise God and his Priest and King,
Who make up a heaven of our misery."

2 comments:

  1. What I find to be most intriguing about this poem is the differed rhyme scheme in each stanza.

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    1. Exactly! Usually when poems have such a straightforward rhyme scheme, they tend to kind of NOT draw my attention at all, so when I began reading this, I kind of checked out. But then it changed, and it made me pay attention to what the poem is actually stating! That's why I like it.

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