Lesbia Harford: Verses about City

I came to live in Sophia Street,
In a little house in Sophia Street
With an inch of floor
Between door and door
And a yard you'd measure in children's feet.
When I'd been ten days in Sophia Street
I remembered its name was Wisdom Street;
For I'd learned much more
Than in all the score
Of years I clamoured for books to eat.

I wish you'd seen that dirty little boy,
Finger at nose,
Peeking and ginking at some girls in rows
Seated on the high window-sills to rest.
One of the girls had hair as bright as corn.
And one was red.
And over their soft forms a glow was shed
From lamps new-lighted in the laundry there.
That boy, beneath them, wheeled a hand-cart full
Of cast-off busts
From sewing rooms. They looked like shells of lusts.
And all the girls around the windows laughed.

There's a band in the street, there's a band in the street.
It will play you a tune for a penny—
It will play you a tune, you a tune, you a tune,
And you, though you haven't got any,
For the music's free, and the music's bold.
It cannot really be bought and sold.
And the people walk with their heads held high
Whether or not they've a penny.
And the music's there as the bandsmen know,
For the poor though the poor are many.
Oh the music's free and the music's bold.
It cannot really be bought and sold.