All day long in the scorching weather,
All day long in the winter gloom,
Brother and sister stand together,
She with her flowers and he with his broom.
And the folks go on over London river,
Poor and wealthy, busy and wise,
Will nobody see those white lips quiver?
Will nobody stop for those pleading eyes?
The old bridge echoes the ceaseless thunder
Of crowds that gather and stream along,
And the stranger child shrinks back in wonder,
She cannot sing in that hurrying throng.
She thinks of her home across the ocean,
With its deep blue sky and its vineyards green;
But who will heed, in that wild commotion,
The pitiful sound of her tambourine?
Flow! flow! O London river,
Carry thy ships from the mighty town,
Smiles and tears in thy heart for ever,
Smiles and tears as thou hurriest down!