The gorgeous stream of England’s wealth goes by,
Mixed with the mud and refuse, as of old '
The hungry, homeless, naked, sick and cold;
Want mocked by waste and greedy luxury.
There, in their downy carriage– cushions, lie
Proud women whose fair bodies have been sold
And bought for coronet or merchant gold '
For whose base splendours envious maidens sigh.
Some day the social ban will fall on them '
On wanton rich who taunt their starving kin;
Some day the social judgment will condemn
These 'wedded harlots’ in their shame and sin.
A juster world shall separate them then
From all pure women and all honoured men.