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LONDON TOWN, by             Poem Explanation     Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: Let others chaunt a country praise



Let others chaunt a country praise ,

Fair river walks and meadow ways;
Let others chaunt a country praise,
Dearer to me my sounding days
Fair river walks and meadow ways;
In London Town:
Dearer to me my sounding days
To me the tumult of the street
In previous hit London Town :
Is no less music, than the sweet
To me the tumult of the street
Surge of the wind among the wheat,
Is no less music, than the sweet
By dale or down.
Surge of the wind among the wheat,

By dale or down.

Three names mine heart with rapture hails,
Three names mine heart with rapture hails,
With homage: Ireland, Cornwall, Wales:
With homage: Ireland, Cornwall, Wales:
Lands of lone moor, and mountain gales,
Lands of lone moor, and mountain gales,
And stormy coast:
And stormy coast:
Yet London's voice upon the air
Yet London's voice upon the air
Pleads at mine heart, and enters there;
Pleads at mine heart, and enters there;
Sometimes I wellnigh love and care
Sometimes I wellnigh love and care
For London most.
For London most.
Listen upon the ancient hills:

All silence! save the lark, who trills

Through sunlight, save the rippling rills:
Listen upon the ancient hills:
There peace may be.
All silence! save the lark, who trills
But listen to great London! loud,
Through sunlight, save the rippling rills:
As thunder from the purple cloud,
There peace may be.
Comes the deep thunder of the crowd,
But listen to great London! loud,
And heartens me.
As thunder from the purple cloud,
O gray, O gloomy skies! What then?
Comes the deep thunder of the crowd,
Here is a marvellous world of men;
And heartens me.
More wonderful than Rome was, when

The world was Rome!

See the great stream of life flow by!
O gray, O gloomy skies! What then?
Here thronging myriads laugh and sigh,
Here is a marvellous world of men;
Here rise and fall, here live and die:
More wonderful than Rome was, when
In this vast home.
The world was Rome!
In long array they march toward death,
See the great stream of life flow by!
Armies, with proud or piteous breath:
Here thronging myriads laugh and sigh,
Forward! the spirit in them saith,
Here rise and fall, here live and die:
Spirit of life:
In this vast home.
Here the triumphant trumpets blow;

Here mourning music sorrows low;

Victors and vanquished, still they go
In long array they march toward death,
Forward in strife.
Armies, with proud or piteous breath:
Who will not heed so great a sight?
Forward! the spirit in them saith,
Greater than marshalled stars of night,
Spirit of life:
That move to music and with light:
Here the triumphant trumpets blow;
For these are men!
Here mourning music sorrows low;
These move to music of the soul;
Victors and vanquished, still they go
Passions, that madden or control:
Forward in strife.
These hunger for a distant goal,

Seen now and then.

Is mine too tragical a strain,
Who will not heed so great a sight?
Chaunting a burden full of pain,
Greater than marshalled stars of night,
And labour, that seems all in vain?
That move to music and with light:
I sing but truth.
For these are men!
Still, many a merry pleasure yet,
These move to music of the soul;
To many a merry measure set,
Passions, that madden or control:
Is ours, who need not to forget
These hunger for a distant goal,
Summer and youth.
Seen now and then.
Do London birds forget to sing?

Do London trees refuse the spring?

Is London May no pleasant thing?
Is mine too tragical a strain,
Let country fields,
Chaunting a burden full of pain,
To milking maid and shepherd boy,
And labour, that seems all in vain?
Give flowers, and song, and bright employ:
I sing but truth.
Her children also can enjoy,
Still, many a merry pleasure yet,
What London yields.
To many a merry measure set,
Gleaming with sunlight, each soft lawn
Is ours, who need not to forget
Lies fragrant beneath dew of dawn;
Summer and youth.
The spires and towers rise, far withdrawn,

Through golden mist:

At sunset, linger beside Thames:
Do London birds forget to sing?
See now, what radiant lights and flames!
Do London trees refuse the spring?
That ruby burns: that purple shames
Is London May no pleasant thing?
The amethyst.
Let country fields,
Winter was long, and dark, and cold:
To milking maid and shepherd boy,
Chill rains! grim fogs, black fold on fold,
Give flowers, and song, and bright employ:
Round street, and square, and river rolled!
Her children also can enjoy,
Ah, let it beWinter is gone! Soon comes July,
What London yields.
With wafts from hayfields by-and-by:

While in the dingiest courts you spy

Flowers fair to see.
Gleaming with sunlight, each soft lawn
Take heart of grace: and let each hour
Lies fragrant beneath dew of dawn;
Break gently into bloom and flower:
The spires and towers rise, far withdrawn,
Winter and sorrow have no power
Through golden mist:
To blight all bloom.
At sunset, linger beside Thames:
One day, perchance, the sun will see
See now, what radiant lights and flames!
London's entire felicity:
That ruby burns: that purple shames
And all her loyal children be
The amethyst.
Clear of all gloom.

A dream? Dreams often dreamed come true:

Our world would seem a world made new
Winter was long, and dark, and cold:
To those, beneath the churchyard yew
Chill rains! grim fogs, black fold on fold,
Laid long ago!
Round street, and square, and river rolled!
When we beneath like shadows bide,
Ah, let it be:
Fair London, throned upon Thames' side,
Winter is gone! Soon comes July,
May be our children's children's pride:
With wafts from hayfields by-and-by:
And we shall know.
While in the dingiest courts you spy

Flowers fair to see.



Take heart of grace: and let each hour
Break gently into bloom and flower:
Winter and sorrow have no power
To blight all bloom.
One day, perchance, the sun will see
London's entire felicity:
And all her loyal children be
Clear of all gloom.


A dream? Dreams often dreamed come true:
Our world would seem a world made new
To those, beneath the churchyard yew
Laid long ago!
When we beneath like shadows bide,
Fair London, throned upon Thames' side,
May be our children's children's pride:
And we shall know.






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