BLACK CAT POEMS
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The Little Vagabond
by: William Blake (1757-1827)
Dear mother, dear mother, the
But the Alehouse is healthy, and pleasant, and warm.
Besides, I can tell where I am used well;
The poor parsons with wind like a blown bladder swell.
But, if at the Church they would give us some ale,
And a pleasant fire our souls to regale,
We'd sing and we'd pray all the livelong day,
Nor ever once wish from the Church to stray.
Then the Parson might preach, and drink, and sing,
And we'd be as happy as
in the spring;
And modest Dame Lurch, who is always at church,
Would not have bandy children, nor fasting, nor birch.
, like a father, rejoicing to see
His children as pleasant and happy as he,
Would have no more quarrel with the
or the barrel,
But kiss him, and give him both drink and apparel.
poems by William Blake