London

I wandered through each chartered street,
Near where the chartered Thames does flow,
A mark in every face I meet,
Marks of weakness, marks of woe.

In every cry of every man,
In every infant's cry of fear,
In every voice, in every ban,
The mind-forged manacles I hear:

How the chimney-sweeper's cry
Every blackening church appals,
And the hapless soldier's sigh
Runs in blood down palace-walls.

But most, through midnight streets I hear
How the youthful harlot's curse
Blasts the new-born infant's tear,
And blights with plagues the marriage-hearse.

by William Blake

Comments (10)

I read this poem in the first class with Miss Karen Cullen. She was my first grade teacher in 1957. She allowed me, as a left handed person, to turn my paper to the other side. God bless her and Edward Lear.
I read this poem in the first class with Miss Karen Cullen. She was my first grade teacher in 1957. She allowed me, as a left handed person, to turn my parer to the other side. God bless her and Edward Lear.
a real classic poem so beautifull
hello, all the commenter
All good. and I loved the cat one.
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