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.