I wander through each charted street Near where the charted Thames does flow And mark in every face I meet Marks of weakness Marks of woe In every cry of every man In every infants cry of fear In every voice In every ban The mind forged manacles I hear How the chimney sweepers cry Every blackening church appalls And the hapless soldiers sigh Runs in blood down palace walls But most through midnights street I hear How the youthful harlots curse Blast the newborn infants tear And blights which plagues the Marriage hearse
