|
I wandered through each chartered street,
Near where the chartered Thames does flow,
A 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 appals,
And the hapless soldiers sigh
Runs in blood down palace-walls.
But most, through midnight streets I hear How the youthful harlots curse
Blasts the new-born infants tear,
And blights with plagues the marriage-hearse.
版权归http://www.15880.com所有
|
樱花树下的回复如下