Peal from the lips that men have worshipped so:
'Pass quickly on, or buy!'
A labyrinth of beauty, sweet to see!
The proud Guinness, the noted Wheeler—all
Our much-belauded London galaxy,
Protecting each a stall.
Sweet forms, fair faces, everywhere the same;
And many a withered flower and trinket old
I purchased recklessly, till joy became
A solemn scorn of gold.