I pass the glad hours of the week as I’ll sit,
And London, at last, to the full can enjoy.
But go where I will, be my tasks what they may,
As heedless of Fashion I linger at home,
My thoughts ever dwell, both by night and by day,
On my ill-advised friends who from happiness roam.
Nor can I deny it is one of my joys
To muse on the woes of that sorrowful band,
As victims to heat, to extortion, and noise,
They wander afar o’er the sea and the land.