''London''
I wander thro'' each charter''d street
Near where the charter''d Thames does flow,
And mark in every face i meet
Marks 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 most thro'' midnight streets i hear
How the youthful Harlot''s curse
Blasts the new born infant''s tear,
And blights with plagues the marriage hearse.
The stanza form in ''London'' is referred to as