Street Lamps, 1950.

Look out and see the moonybirds
That light the grey South Quay.
Cold on the pale linoleum,
On padding feet go we,
On gloomy stairs, through fusty rooms
Which ghosts and shadows fill -
The moonybirds, the moonybirds
On grimy Gasworks Hill.

Your father lies sound sleeping.
Awakened now I shiver
Behind the Regency facade
That fronts the trade-bound river.
The old men on the upper floors,
Their business done, are still:
The moonybirds, the moonybirds
On grimy Gasworks Hill.

I dreamt I was in Ambergate,
With wooded mountains all around,
And I and all my family
Assembled on the grassy ground
Near where the railway meets the stream,
Then at dusk we ambled home,
In Ambergate, in Ambergate,
Where girls are safe to roam.

Look out and see the moonybirds,
Dear child against my breast.
Secretive neighbours lie abed.
Their twitching curtains rest.
And all the inns are empty
And the coaling-boats lie still
As we gaze upon the moonybirds
That glow on Gasworks Hill.