Thou art in London—in that pleasant place,
Where every kind of mischief's daily brewing,
Which can await warm Youth in its wild race.
'T is true, that thy career is not a new one;
Thou art no novice in the headlong chase
Of early life; but this is a new land,
Which foreigners can never understand.
XXIV.
What with a small diversity of climate,
Of hot or cold, mercurial or sedate,