I love thee, London! for thy many men, <br />And for thy mighty deeds and scenes of glory; <br />For all great thoughts and things into thy story <br />Drain themselves--of the heart or hand or pen. <br />I love thee in all hours: the most, though, when <br />The busy heart of universal man <br />Seems throbbing through thee, without pause or plan <br />Yet, haply well, to God's all loving ken. <br />Thou art the greatest thing on the earth's face <br />That man hath made; thou art what man can do. <br />Look on it, Lord! and greaten it with Thy grace. <br />Hundreds of shrines therein are Thine;--too few. <br />Let the world worship God! ye cities, bow! <br />And last and lowest, thou, proud London, thou!<br /><br />Philip James Bailey<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/london-15/
