Told in the twilight

by F. E. Weatherly

She thinks of her home across the ocean,

With its deep blue sky and its vineyards green;

But who will heed, in that wild commotion,

The pitiful sound of her tambourine?

Flow! flow! O London river,

Carry thy ships from the mighty town,

Smiles and tears in thy heart for ever,

Smiles and tears as thou hurriest down!