Rebel Verses — Charing Cross

Round Charing Cross in carrion row The crowd press in; a sight to see;

Their mouths agape, their eyes aglow, With morbid curiosity.

Those twisted limbs, those bandaged faces!

Humanity all broken down!

The ghostly grim procession races: Hell's handicraft in London Town.

The bestial throng with pampered eyes-- Faces of goat or sheep or bull-- All greedy with a glad surprise Of ghoulish horror drinking full.

Heroic citizens, well nourished, Who feast your eyes:--What sight to see?

By you the Coliseum flourished;

You thronged, as now, round Calvary.

Love not too much