The Little Vagabond — by William Blake

Dear Mother, dear Mother, the Church is cold,

But the Ale-house is healthy & pleasant & warm;

Besides I can tell where I am use’d well,

Such usage in heaven will never do well.

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 live-long day;

Nor ever once wish from the Church to stray,

Then the Parson might preach & drink & sing.

And we’d be as happy as birds in the spring:

And modest dame Lurch, who is always at Church,

Would not have bandy children nor fasting nor birch.

And God like a father rejoicing to see,

His children as pleasant and happy as he:

Would have no more quarrel with the Devil or the Barrel

But kiss him & give him both drink and apparel.

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