Oh, the last rays of feeling and life must depart
Ere the mem’ries of London shall fade from my heart.
Yet it was not that wealth had made radiant the scene
With splendour of pomp and with glory of sheen!
’Twas not the bright magic of palace or hall—
Oh, no! it was something more wondrous than all.
’Twas that Poverty’s sin-stricken children were there,
Darkly gathered, and pent in foul homes of despair;
And I felt as I gazed on their black haunts of shame,
That, though evil defiled them, mankind’s was the blame.