Leaves the warm circle of the crowded play,
Nor asks the table if a chance remain?
To some staunch friend is the decision left,
Some sturdy swearing the event requires,
E’en the chous’d fools are conscious of the theft,
E’en on their oaths would not believe such liars!
For thee, who, absent from the wonted game,
Dost think these lines some pointed truths relate,
If, when is heard the mention of thy name,
Some fellow-sufferer shall ask thy fate: