LONDON I wander through each chartered street, near where the chartered Thames does flow, and mark in every face I meet mark of weakness, marks of woe. In every cry of every man, in every Infant's cry of fear, in every voice, in every ban, the mind-forged manacles I hear. How the Chimney-sweeper's cry Every black'ning Church appalls; and the hapless Soldier's sigh runs in blood down Palace walls. But must through midnight streets I hear How the youthful Harlot's curse Blasts the new-born Infant's tear, And blights with plagues the Marriage hearse. William Blake * de la selección poética de Colin White. Letras Inglesas. Filosofía y Letras (a finales del 97).