William Blake's London

This poem, vivid and stinky and dirty in its narrative, does more than tell of the over-crowded London streets, prostitution and the bitter sadness contained within Blake’s hometown, it also speaks with marred passion provides the reader insight into the economical, political and human relation aspects of a life lived in the 1700s

Enjoy!!!

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.
 
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.