He’ll the passion promote, make you drink, though not dry,
And filch your fair prospects by loading the die.
XVI.
Then the sports of the field, a fine view of the sea,
Friend and bottle, girl, Cutter, and cottage give me;
At smoak’d rus in urbe let other bards dwell,
Keep me from Pall Mall, Piccadilly, and Hell![1]
[1] A famous gambling-house so called in the vicinity of S. James’s.