What is above all these chimneys, I asked the young lad, <br />The chimney sweep boy replied, <br />Why Sir, it's the sky which is sometimes so blue, <br />That when I look up and glance at the view, <br />Such glory cannot be denied. <br /> <br />What lies in that sky then, I asked the young lad, <br />The boy gazing up now replied, <br />Oh Sir, clouds and sunshine, at night moon and stars, <br />Planets like Jupiter, Saturn and Mars, <br />What wonders out there can be spied? <br /> <br />Is your work very unbearable, I asked the young lad, <br />Most times Sir, it is, he replied, <br />From dawn until dusk, I'm climbing to sweep, <br />The soot from the chimneys, for my food and my keep, <br />My Master cannot be defied. <br /> <br />Do you 'welcome' the sky, I asked the young lad, <br />When I'm climbing, I do, he replied, <br />It's my friend when it's dark and the way up is hard, <br />Because sometimes I get burn't and then badly scarred, <br />There's many a time I have cried. <br /> <br />What then do you wish for, I asked the young lad, <br />With yearning, he slowly replied, <br />I would love to be free and fly like the birds, <br />Way up in the sky, and if I had the words, <br />Write about how I'd feel like inside. <br /> <br />© Ernestine Northover<br /><br />Ernestine Northover<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-little-chimney-sweep-victorian-times/
