| 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. | |
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| In every cry of every Man, | 5 |
| In every Infants cry of fear, | |
| In every voice; in every ban, | |
| The mind-forg'd manacles I hear | |
| |
| How the Chimney-sweepers cry | |
| Every blackning Church appalls, | 10 |
| And the hapless Soldiers sigh | |
| Runs in blood down Palace walls | |
| |
| But most thro' midnight streets I hear | |
| How the youthful Harlots curse | |
| Blasts the new born Infants tear | 15 |
| And blights with plagues the Marriage hearse | |
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