Perhaps, at last, doom’d by capricious fate
To kindle pipes, or curl some crazy crown.
From The Morning Post and Gazetteer:
Thursday, November 28, 1799.
——:o:——
Nightly Thoughts in the Temple.
St. Dunstan’s bells proclaim departing day,
The weary hacks slow drag the axle-tree,
The ’prentice homeward runs his hasty way,
And leaves the Town to dulness and to me.