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I wander thro' each charter'd street
Near where the charter'd Thames does flow,
And mark in every face I meet
Marks of weakness, marks of woe.


In every cry of every Man,
In every Infant's cry of fear,
In every voice, in every ban,
The mind-forg'd manacles I hear:


How the Chimney-sweeper's cry
Every black'ning Church appalls,
And the hapless Soldier's sigh
Runs in blood down Palace walls;


But most thro' midnight streets I hear
How the youthful Harlot's curse
Blasts the new born Infant's tear,
And blights with plagues the Marriage hearse.


(Excerpt from AMERICA)


Rise and look out; his chains are loose, his dungeon doors are
open;
And let his wife and children return from the opressor's
scourge.
They look behind at every step and believe it is a dream,
Singing: The Sun has left his blackness, and has found a fresher
morning,
And the fair Moon rejoices in the clear and cloudless night;
For Empire is no more, and now the Lion and Wolf shall
cease.


Fuente: www.musicafusion.com


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