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THROUGH Paris lay my readiest course, and there | |
| Sojourning a few days, I visited, | |
| In haste, each spot of old or recent fame, | |
| The latter chiefly; from the field of Mars | |
| Down to the suburbs of St. Antony, | 5 |
| And from Mont Martyr southward to the Dome | |
| Of Geneviève. In both her clamorous halls, | |
| The national synod and the Jacobins, | |
| I saw the revolutionary power | |
| Toss like a ship at anchor, rocked by storms; | 10 |
| The arcades I traversed, in the palace huge | |
| Of Orleans; coasted round and round the line | |
| Of tavern, brothel, gaming-house, and shop, | |
| Great rendezvous of worst and best, the walk | |
| Of all who had a purpose, or had not; | 15 |
| I stared and listened, with a stranger’s ears, | |
| To hawkers and haranguers, hubbub wild! | |
| And hissing Factionists with ardent eyes, | |
| In knots, or pairs, or single. Not a look | |
| Hope takes, or Doubt or Fear is forced to wear, | 20 |
| But seemed there present; and I scanned them all, | |
| Watched every gesture uncontrollable, | |
| Of anger and vexation and despite, | |
| All side by side, and struggling face to face, | |
| With gayety and dissolute idleness. | 25 |
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| Where silent zephyrs sported with the dust | |
| Of the Bastille, I sat in the open sun, | |
| And from the rubbish gathered up a stone, | |
| And pocketed the relic, in the guise | |
| Of an enthusiast; yet, in honest truth, | 30 |
| I looked for something that I could not find, | |
| Affecting more emotion than I felt; | |
| For ’t is most certain that these various sights, | |
| However potent their first shock, with me | |
| Appeared to recompense the traveller’s pains | 35 |
| Less than the painted Magdalene of Le Brun, | |
| A beauty exquisitely wrought, with hair | |
| Dishevelled, gleaming eyes, and rueful cheek | |
| Pale and bedropped with ever-flowing tears. | |
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