Farewell to the Strand! While the money had crown’d me,
Of coin for sprees I ne’er yet felt the dearth;
But Poverty says, I must leave as I found thee,
Decayed in my garments, and sunk in my worth!
Oh! for the numberless sov’reigns I’ve wasted
In strife with the p’lice ere my orgies were done!
Oh! for the numberless liquors I’ve tasted,
With blackened eyes fixed upon multiplied sun.
Farewell to thee, Strand! But when Bankruptcy rallies,
And calls me once more to thy regions, why then,