(Words by William Blake [1757 - 1827])
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I wander through each chartered street,
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near where the chartered Thames does flow,
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and mark in every face I meet
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marks of weakness, marks of woe
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in every cry of every man,
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in every infant's cry of fear,
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in every voice, in every ban,
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the mind-forged manacles I hear.
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how the chimney-sweeper's cry
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every blackening church appalls,
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and the hapless soldier's sigh
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runs in blood down palace walls
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but most, through midnight streets I hear
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how the youthful harlot's curse
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blasts the new-born infant's tear
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and blights with plagues the marriage hearse
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I wander through each chartered street,
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near where the chartered Thames does flow,
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and mark in every face I meet
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marks of weakness, marks of woe
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London
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| Sparklehorse |
