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.