In Erith's streets I saw them come,
I saw them come;
They stood against a villa wall,
They were as strangers, mournful all,
Far from their home;
With dust blew down the dirty streets,
The eager children's call.

In Erith's streets where hovels lie,
Close packed and trim
They came, feeling the unseen sky,
In that sad street where a child's bright cry
Grows quickly dim
And slatternly women sit and stare,
And then go in and die.

I saw their faces when they woke
In Erith's streets;
It was a wonder men could see
Those golden sons of misery
In Erith's streets,
In Erith's streets and marvel not
At such a mystery!