Gilding the beer-shop's saw-dust bowers,
The cabbage-stalks in lieu of flowers,
The trodden orange-peel,
Till, calm as heaven, the moon appears,
A Sister in a house of tears,
Who soothes, but cannot heal.
And now the cheap excursionists
Come, tired and happy, home,
And hear amid the noisy streets
The churning of the foam.