Essay of chimney sweeper

The poem has a young, nameless first person narrator which gives the poem a sense of youthful innocence and anonymity that is in direct contradiction to the horrible conditions they suffer. Most of the poem has dark tones that is punctuated by a happy dream of freedom and joy with his true father his creator.

The poem ends with a bleak and almost sinister twist of irony that leaves the reader feeling sorrow and shame for the chimney sweepers. The best essay writers are ready to impress your teacher.

ENGLISH LITERATURE -- THE PRAISE OF CHIMNEY SWEEPERS BY CHARLES LAMB -- QUIZ -- QUESTIONS

Make an order now! Irony is one of the most powerful literary devices employed by Blake. It is seen running through the poem starting with the first lines.

Summary of The Chimney Sweeper

This is extremely ironic because the boy is sold into servitude in deplorable, deathly conditions. More irony is evident in the last lines of the poem where the narrator speaks of the sweeper doing their duty to avoid harm. Children should only have the duty of being happy children, not pleasing their masters and working terrible jobs like slaves. Another ironic situation in the poem is in its religious contexts.


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In Toms dream he is told by the angel that if he is good and does his work God will be his father. Academy of American Poets.

Chimney Sweeper Analysis essays

National Poetry Month. American Poets Magazine. Poems Find and share the perfect poems. The Chimney-Sweeper.

This poem is in the public domain. And all must love the human form, In heathen, Turk, or Jew.

Essay about Child Labor Exposed in The Chimney Sweeper by William Blake

William Blake Infant Joy "I have no name: I am but two days old. Pretty joy!

Sweet joy, but two days old. By William Blake. When my mother died I was very young,. Could scarcely cry " 'weep!

The Chimney Sweeper: When my mother died I was very young

There's little Tom Dacre, who cried when his head. That curled like a lamb's back, was shaved, so I said,. You know that the soot cannot spoil your white hair. Were all of them locked up in coffins of black;.

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Then down a green plain, leaping, laughing they run,. They rise upon clouds, and sport in the wind. And the Angel told Tom, if he'd be a good boy,.