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The Chimney Sweep for St Clement’s school

At school, there’s a picture on the wall

Of a boy in rags and a cap, quite small.

They say he’s the parish chimney sweep.

For every night, while children sleep

And ships sail past on moonlight seas

And mice eat crumbs from island teas,

He leaves his frame, slips to the floor

Across the hall and through the door

To draw a smiling sooty face.

It’s always in a different place:

In the cupboard, on a tray,

By the heater, by the clay, 

The teacher’s table, by the sink

And on our project books, we think.

Someone does it, while we sleep.

We’re sure it is that chimney sweep.