C.J.S.
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1
Oh! sweep chimney, sweep!
You maidens shake off sleep
If you my cry can follow.
I climb the chimney top,
Without ladder without rope;
Aye and there! aye and there! aye and there you shall hear me halloo!
2
Arise! maids, arise!
Unseal and rub your eyes.
Arise and do your duty.
I summon yet again
And do not me disdain,
That my call—that my call—that my calling's poor and sooty.
3
Behold! here I stand!
With brush and scrape in hand.
As a soldier that stands on his sentry.
I work for the better sort,
And well they pay me for't.
O I work, O I work, O I work for the best of gentry.