He came to the desert of London town <br />Gray miles long; <br />He wandered up and he wandered down, <br />Singing a quiet song. <br /> <br />He came to the desert of London town, <br />Mirk miles broad; <br />He wandered up and he wandered down, <br />Ever alone with God. <br /> <br />There were thousands and thousands of human kind <br />In this desert of brick and stone; <br />But some were deaf and some were blind, <br />And he was there alone. <br /> <br />At length the good hour came; he died <br />As he had lived, alone. <br />He was not missed from the desert wide; <br />Perhaps he was found at the throne.<br /><br />James Thomson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/william-blake/
