When my mother died I was very young,And my father sold me while yet my tongueCould scarcely cry 'weep! 'weep! 'weep!'weep!So your chimneys I sweep, and in soot I sleep.
Friends I have had both old and young,And ale we drank and songs we sung:Enough you know when this is said,That, one and all, they died in bed.In bed they died and I’ll not goWhere all my friends have perished so.charles henry webb
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