Explore "Sweets for Leisure Hours" by E. Phillips on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Whilst you are asleep, the poor little sweep / At the dawning of morning must go, / With brushes and bags, and cloth'd all in rags, / In the winter, thro' frost and thro' snow.
We're oblig'd, I am sure, for what they endure, / To save us from smoke and from fire; / And often I weep to think that the sweep / Must do such sad work for his hire.