I wandered through each chartered street, br Near where the chartered Thames does flow, br A mark in every face I meet, br Marks of weakness, marks of woe. br br In every cry of every man, br In every infant's cry of fear, br In every voice, in every ban, br The mind-forged manacles I hear: br br How the chimney-sweeper's cry br Every blackening church appals, br And the hapless soldier's sigh br Runs in blood down palace-walls. br br But most, through midnight streets I hear br How the youthful harlot's curse br Blasts the new-born infant's tear, br And blights with plagues the marriage-hearse.