London is the epitome of our times, and the Rome of to-day.

London is the epitome of our times, and the Rome of to-day.

London is the clearing-house of the world.

London is the clearing-house of the world.

The way was long and weary,
But gallantly they strode,
A country lad and lassie,
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The way was long and weary,
But gallantly they strode,
A country lad and lassie,
Along the heavy road.
The night was dark and stormy,
But blithe of heart were they,
For shining in the distance
The lights of London lay.
O gleaming lights of London, that gem of the city's crown;
What fortunes be within you, O Lights of London Town!

As I came down the Highgate Hill,
The Highgate Hill, the Highgate Hill,
As I came down read more

As I came down the Highgate Hill,
The Highgate Hill, the Highgate Hill,
As I came down the Highgate Hill
I met the sun's bravado,
And saw below me, fold on fold,
Grey to pearl and pearl to gold,
This London like a land of old,
The land of Eldorado.

The lungs of London. (Parks)

The lungs of London. (Parks)

London! the needy villain's general home,
The common sewer of Paris and of Rome!
With eager thirst, read more

London! the needy villain's general home,
The common sewer of Paris and of Rome!
With eager thirst, by folly or by fate,
Sucks in the dregs of each corrupted state.

He was born within the sound of Bow-bell.

He was born within the sound of Bow-bell.

A mighty mass of brick, and smoke, and shipping,
Dirty and dusty, but as wide as eye
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A mighty mass of brick, and smoke, and shipping,
Dirty and dusty, but as wide as eye
Could reach, with here and there a sail just skipping
In sight, then lost amidst the forestry
Of masts; a wilderness of steeples peeping
On tiptoe through their sea-coal canopy;
A huge, dun cupola, like a foolscap crown
On a fool's head--and there is London Town.

If the parks be "the lungs of London" we wonder what Greenwich
Fair is--a periodical breaking out, we suppose--a read more

If the parks be "the lungs of London" we wonder what Greenwich
Fair is--a periodical breaking out, we suppose--a sort of spring
rash.