Dear mother, dear mother, the Church is cold;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 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 seeHis children as pleasant and happy as he,Would have no more quarrel with the Devil or the barrel,But kiss him, and give him both drink and apparel.

The work and its creator

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Creator: William Blake
Nationality / cultural background: English
Work / edition: Before 1827

Historical public-domain poem. Verse and line breaks retained.

In the source: The Little Vagabond

Selected for the Brief on 18 Oct 2026. This date records our selection, rather than when the work was created.