London

I wander thro' each charter'd street
Near where the charter'd Thames does flow
And mark in every face I meet
Marks of weakness, marks of woe
How the Chimney-sweeper's cry
Every black'ning Church appalls
And the hapless Soldier's sigh
Runs in blood down Palace walls
In every cry of every Man
In every Infant's cry of fear
In every voice, in every ban
The mind-forg'd manacles I hear:
But most thro' midnight streets I hear
How the youthful Harlot's curse
Blasts the new born Infant's tear
And blights with plague the Marriage hearse
London
London
And 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-forg'd manacles I hear:
London
London
Children of the future age,
Reading this indignant page,
Know that in a former time
Love, sweet love, was thought a crime.
Rise and look out; his chains are loose, his dungeon doors are open
And let his wife and children return from the oppressor's scourge
They look behind at every step and believe it is a dream
Singing: "The Sun has left his blackness, and has found a fresher morning
And the fair Moon rejoices in the clear and cloudless night
For Empire is no more, and now the Lion and Wolf shall cease"
Shall cease
Shall cease
Little Fly
Thy summers play,
My thoughtless hand
Has brush'd away.
Am not I
A fly like thee?
Or art not thou
A man like me?
For I dance
And drink & sing:
Till some blind hand
Shall brush my wing.
If thought is life
And strength & breath:
And the want
Of thought is death;
Then am I
A happy fly,
If I live,
Or if I die.
Or if I die.
Or if I die.