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.

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.

How the Chimney-sweeper’s cry
Every black’ning Church appalls;
And the hapless Soldier’s sigh
Runs in blood down Palace walls.

But most thro’ midnight streets I hear
How the youthful Harlot’s curse
Blasts the new born Infant’s tear,
And blights with plagues the Marriage hearse.

COMMENTS

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One response to “London – William Blake”

1. PZ says:

   01/21/2009 at 11:58 am

   So powerful, David, these lines you have given us.
   Every line is a desperate screaming Wake Up to the Church.
   It will never be heard and always be told.
   Match this with the new painting over on http://www.johncampoxford.blogspot.com

   Reply