A mighty mass of brick  and smoke  and shipping  Dirty and dusty  but as wide as eye Could reach  with here and there a sail just skipping In sight  then lost amidst the forestry Of masts  a wilderness of steeples peeping On tiptoe through their sea-coal canopy  A huge  dun cupola  like a fools-cap crown On a fool's head - and there is London Town.
Lord Byron
london