Chambers's Journal of Popular Literature, Science, and Art, No. 707, July 14, 1877

A CITY WEED.

I passed a graveyard in a London street,
Where 'stead of songs of birds, the hoarse sad cries
Of wretched men echoed from morn to night.
Locked were its gates, and rows of iron bars
Fenced in God's Acre from tired wanderers' feet.
All broken lay the slabs which love had raised;
But on a mound where fell a patch of light,
A Bindweed grew; and on its flowers, with eyes
O'erflowing with a wintry rain of tears,
A pale-faced, miserable woman gazed,
Heart-sick with longings for the nevermore,
And faint with memories of bygone years:
A breezy common with a heaven of stars,
And lovers parting at a cottage door.

Printed and Published by W. & R. Chambers, 47 Paternoster Row, London, and 339 High Street, Edinburgh.

FOOTNOTES:

[A] Since writing the above, information has come to hand concerning the real fate of this submarine craft. When the civil war was over, divers were sent down; they fished up the enemy-destroying and self-destroying torpedo-boat, which was found, with its dead crew in it, underneath a Federal ship, which it had sunk by bursting a hole in the hull.

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