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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;

Dearer to me my sounding days
Let others chaunt a country praise,
In London Town:
Fair river walks and meadow ways;
To me the tumult of the street
Dearer to me my sounding days
Is no less music, than the sweet
In previous hit London Town :
Surge of the wind among the wheat,
To me the tumult of the street
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:
All silence! save the lark, who trills
There peace may be.
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,
As thunder from the purple cloud,
And heartens me.
Comes the deep thunder of the crowd,
O gray, O gloomy skies! What then?
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;
More wonderful than Rome was, when
Here rise and fall, here live and die:
The world was Rome!
In this vast home.
See the great stream of life flow by!
In long array they march toward death,
Here thronging myriads laugh and sigh,
Armies, with proud or piteous breath:
Here rise and fall, here live and die:
Forward! the spirit in them saith,
In this vast home.
Spirit of life:
Here the triumphant trumpets blow;

Here mourning music sorrows low;

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

Seen now and then.

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

Do London trees refuse the spring?

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

The spires and towers rise, far withdrawn,
Through golden mist:

Do London birds forget to sing?
At sunset, linger beside Thames:
Do London trees refuse the spring?
See now, what radiant lights and flames!
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,
Give flowers, and song, and bright employ:
Chill rains! grim fogs, black fold on fold,
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

Gleaming with sunlight, each soft lawn
Flowers fair to see.
Lies fragrant beneath dew of dawn;
Take heart of grace: and let each hour
Break gently into bloom and flower:
The spires and towers rise, far withdrawn,
Winter and sorrow have no power
Through golden mist:
At sunset, linger beside Thames:
To blight all bloom.
One day, perchance, the sun will see
See now, what radiant lights and flames!
That ruby burns: that purple shames
London's entire felicity:
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:
Chill rains! grim fogs, black fold on fold,
To those, beneath the churchyard yew
Round street, and square, and river rolled!
Laid long ago!
Ah, let it be:
When we beneath like shadows bide,
Fair London, throned upon Thames' side,
Winter is gone! Soon comes July,
With wafts from hayfields by-and-by:
May be our children's children's pride:
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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