London 1I wander thro' each charter'd street, 2Near where the charter'd Thames does flow, 3And mark in every face I meet 4Marks of weakness, marks of woe. 5In every cry of every Man, 6In every Infant's cry of fear, 7In every voice, in every ban, 8The mind-forg'd manacles I hear. 9How the Chimney-sweeper's cry 10Every black'ning Church appalls; 11And the hapless Soldier's sigh 12Runs in blood down Palace walls. 13But most thro' midnight streets I hear 14How the youthful Harlot's curse 15Blasts the new born Infant's tear, 16And blights with plagues the Marriage hearse. |