BALLAD OF THE LONDONER

Evening falls on the smoky walls,

And the railings drip with rain,

And I will cross the old river

To see my girl again.

The great and solemn-gliding tram,

Love's still-mysterious car,

Has many a light of gold and white,

And a single dark red star.

I know a garden in a street

Which no one ever knew;

I know a rose beyond the Thames,

Where flowers are pale and few.