Whatever its attractions, Mrs. Farrer was at times induced to go abroad,
visiting, I imagine, only the Protestant cantons of Switzerland. She
stayed, however, in Paris, which she apostrophises with Sibyllic
candour:--
O city of pleasure, what did I see
When passing through or staying in thee.
Bright shone the sun above, blue was the sky,
Everywhere music heard, none seemed to sigh.
Beautiful carriages in Champs Elysee
Filled with fair maidens on cushions easy.
Such was the outer side; what was within?
Most I was often told revelled in sin.
Sad its fate since I left, sadder 'twill be
If they go on in sin as seen by me.
Let us hope, ere too late, warned by the past,
They may seek pleasures more likely to last,
Or, like to Babylon, it must decline,
And o'er its ruins its lovers repine.
But London hardly fares much better, in spite of Mrs. Farrer's own
residence, at Campden Hill, if I may hazard the locality:--
To the tomb they must go,
Rich and poor all in woe,
Strange motley throng.
Wealth in its splendour weeps,
Poverty silence keeps;
None last here long. . . .
So much for thee, London.
Except in a spiritual sense, her existence was not an eventful one. It
was, I think, the loss of some neighbour's child which suggested:--
Nellarina, forced exotic,
Born to bloom in region fair,
Thou wert to me a narcotic,
Hope I did thy lot to share.
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