While London sleeps with all it's lights a gleaming,
Millions of its people now lie softly dreaming.
Some have no homes, while o'er their troubles weep
Others laugh and play the game
While London's fast asleep.
Underneath the lamplights glitter
Stands a little fragile girl.
Heedless of the night winds bitter
As they round about her whirl.
While the hundreds pass unheeding
In the evening's waning hours,
Still she cries with tearful pleading,
'Won't you buy my pretty flowers?
The last song was written in 1876 and I found this picture of the old sheet music.
I have such memories of both these songs, my beloved Granddad taught me as a child and we used to sing together. Of course they stayed in my mind and when the challenge came up 'Tattered' they were the first things I thought of.
Thank you for looking.