Classic Poem

Dim over London breaks
The inevitable day:
Again to hard work wakes
Her world, or harder play.

Swift to their day-sleep go
The lively dreams of night:
We, to our fill of woe,
Or wonder, or delight.

Far into night shall rage
The warfare of the town;
This daily war we wage;
Victors, or smitten down.

Far into night, oh, far!
Some, with no roof but skies,
Shall meet the morning star
With heavy, hopeless eyes.

Faint over London breaks
The inevitable day:
And weary London takes
Once more her strenuous way.