London
I wander thro' each charter'd street,Near where the charter'd Thames does flow.And mark in every face I meetMarks of weakness, marks of woe.In every cry of every Man,In every Infants cry of fear,In every voice: in every ban,The mind-forg'd manacles I hearHow the Chimney-sweepers cryEvery blackning Church appalls,And the hapless Soldiers sighRuns in blood down Palace wallsBut most thro' midnight streets I hearHow the youthful Harlots curseBlasts the new-born Infants tearAnd blights with plagues the Marriage hearse
Comments