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In Dickensian time Upon sunset hour Overshadowing Thames Is London Tower Blackened cobble streets Shimmer in the rain Big Ben at Westminster Chimes an eight bells refrain At Euston Station A passenger alights On Platform 3 And enters the caff for a nice cup of tea At the local tavern Behind steamy windows The opportunists sit Gleaning local gossip Ever watchful to ensnare Any hapless stranger come wandering there Covent Garden still well lit As lamplighters carry out their remit Striding with ladders about old London town With a cheery wave and a purposeful frown Patrolling policemen in forbidding places Echoing footfalls as boots make paces A courting couple shelters under the arches Oblivious to passerby's and dray cart horses A hackney driver cracks his whip As high stepping hooves on cobbles clip From Westminster stove pipe hatted M.P.s from parliament sitting enter a members club to continue their political discourses unremitting Mudlark urchins ankle deep in moonshine glow watch chugging steam boats along the Thames flow Billingsgate Market's straw boated and stripe aproned men are found sluicing with brooms in hand the blood drenched ground Along the West End thoroughfares Come wealthy patrons in open carriages with lantern flares wearing evening attire Bejewelled ladies in fanciful frocks And around bare shoulders Stoles of mink and silver fox They ascend the red carpeted stairs And look towards the royal box A pretty young street seller of violets and roses with straw basket on hip proffers up the scented poses A peasouper fog blankets from Thames to chimney tops As a trader hooks his shutters down Outside his haberdashery shop Across London Bridge the East End rabble Trail homeward to Hackney, Bethnal Green and Whitechapel From an open pub door streams a music hall tune played on an accordion in a crowded tap room Wending amongst the walkers in the Strand run beggarly children with outstretched hand. And...... Charles Dickens walks the streets at night taking note of every sight.
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