O, the mockery of pity! Weep with fragrant handkerchief, In pompous luxury of grief, Selfish, hollow-hearted city? O these money-getting times! What's a heart for? What's a hand, But to seize and shake the land, Till it tremble for its crimes? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO THE MEMORY OF BEN JONSON by JOHN CLEVELAND THE CITY OF DREADFUL NIGHT: 21 by JAMES THOMSON (1834-1882) FLORENTINE INGRATITUDE by WILLIAM BLAKE THE LADY UNKNOWN by ALEXANDER (ALEKSANDR) ALEXANDROVICH BLOK THREE PICTURES by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT LINES SUGGESTED BY THE FOURTEENTH OF FEBRUARY (1) by CHARLES STUART CALVERLEY LINES WRITTEN ON VISITING A SCENE IN ARGYLESHIRE by THOMAS CAMPBELL |