A squalid, hideous town, where streams run black br With vomit of a hundred roaring mills,- br Hither occasion calls me; and ev'n here, br All in the sable reek that wantonly br Defames the sunlight and deflowers the morn, br One may at least surmise the sky still blue. br Ev'n here, the myriad slaves of the machine br Deem life a boon; and here, in days far sped, br I overheard a kind-eyed girl relate br To her companions, how a favouring chance br By some few shillings weekly had increased br The earnings of her household, and she said: br 'So now we are happy, having all we wished,'- br Felicity indeed! though more it lay br In wanting little than in winning all. br br Felicity indeed! Across the years br To me her tones come back, rebuking; me, br Spreader of toils to snare the wandering Joy br No guile may capture and no force surprise- br Only by them that never wooed her, won. br br O curst with wide desires and spacious dreams, br Too cunningly do ye accumulate br Appliances and means of happiness, br E'er to be happy! Lavish hosts, ye make br Elaborate preparation to receive br A shy and simple guest, who, warned of all br The ceremony and circumstance wherewith br Ye mean to entertain her, will not come.