The Thames nocturne of blue and gold Changed to a Harmony in grey: A barge with ochre-coloured hay Dropt from the wharf: and chill and cold
The yellow fog came creeping down The bridges, till the housesβ walls Seemed changed to shadows and St. Paulβs Loomed like a bubble oβer the town.
Then suddenly arose the clang Of waking life; the streets were stirred With country waggons: and a bird Flew to the glistening roofs and sang.
But one pale woman all alone, The daylight kissing her wan hair, Loitered beneath the gas lampsβ flare, With lips of flame and heart of stone.