Coffins of black” When my mother died I was very young601, And my father sold me while yet my tongue, Could scarcely cry weep weep weep weep, So your chimneys I sweep & in soot I sleep . . . And so he was quiet, & that very night. As Tom was a sleeping he had such a sight That thousands of sweepers Dick, Joe, Ned, & Jack Were all of them lock’d up in coffins of black —William Blake
