University of Virginia Library

[Here must I stay awhile, against my will]

Here must I stay awhile, against my will,
And long to flee to lonely Bramble Hill.
What countless crowds these grimy streets do fill!
How cheap is man!—and woman cheaper still

[“Nation of Shopkeepers”—how base a name!]

“Nation of Shopkeepers”—how base a name!
“Of cheating Shopkeepers” were still worse fame.

[A whore that's gentle, mild, and sweet]

A whore that's gentle, mild, and sweet,
Dainty, modest-worded, neat,
She's a creature just so far
Worse than filthy trollops are,
As of womanhood the more
She puts into this trade of whore.

[Soldiers have fame, and harlots infamy]

Soldiers have fame, and harlots infamy;
Birds of a feather, for all that, they be,
And gladly flock together, as you see.

[Hireling Soldier, Priest, and Woman]

Hireling Soldier, Priest, and Woman,
Not uncommon, yet inhuman.

[Many things flash across the town-bred mind]

Many things flash across the town-bred mind,
They come and go and leave small trace behind.
Few things, oft trudging through the rustic brain,
Impress themselves in marks that long remain.
Country makes much of trifles; Town makes light
Of life's chief things. How hard to judge aright!

[The Workers' Revolution must begin]

The Workers' Revolution must begin
(Else that were also vanity) within;
Grant honest life and honest work its aim.
Or do they merely envy whom they blame?

[Old folk, tho' weak, will serve you best: of late]

Old folk, tho' weak, will serve you best: of late
Conscience in work is quite gone out of date.

[Is idleness indeed so black a crime?]

Is idleness indeed so black a crime?
What are the Busy doing, half their time?

[O the buzz and clack and clatter]

O the buzz and clack and clatter,
Mighty noise and little matter!

[The Century gallops, glorying itself]

The Century gallops, glorying itself
On swiftness, downhill, to an unknown gulf.

[In the Great City, as 'twere Hell]

In the Great City, as 'twere Hell,
People who know each other well
Rub elbows and go blankly by
With a pretended stranger's eye;—
Yet this is better than the grin
Where all is cold and dark within;
Better than the wink or glance
Of the comrogue's countenance.

[One Cockney you despise; four million such]

One Cockney you despise; four million such
You brag of; why? London a larger smutch
On England, is it truly more a town?
Thames more a river when its borders drown?
Uses and graces of a town are hid
And lost the dingy labyrinth amid.

[A bat-wing'd Cupid takes his flight]

A bat-wing'd Cupid takes his flight
Through the city streets by night;
Dread him, shun him, Boys and Girls!
He has horns among his curls,
He has venom on his arrow,
Rotting skin and bone and marrow.

[Stir and change from morn till night]