‘Verily I cannot get this mighty street out of my head’, said the Doctor. ‘and then there is the new park – what do you call it? Mary-le-Bone – no, the Regent’s Park: it seems to be an elegant, well-planned place, methinks, and will have a fine effect, no doubt, with its villas and what not, when the shrubs and trees have shot up a little. But I shall not live to see it, and I care not; for I remember those fields in their natural, rural garb, covered with herds of kine, when you might stretch across from old William’s farm there a-top of Portland Street, right away without impediment to
Saint John’s Wood, where I have gathered blackberries when a boy – which pretty place, I am sorry to see, these brick and mortar gentry have trenched upon.
Wine and Walnuts: or, After Dinner Chit-Chat, 1823.