To A Friend In London, Upon My Returning To College Poem by Nicholas Amhurst

While You, dear Tom, in London City,
Associate with the fair and witty,
And, gayly rambling o'er the Town,
Take the brisk Juice in Bumpers down;
Or, charm'd with the persuasive Stage,
Laugh at the Follies of the Age;
To College wretched I return,
And Day and Night with Spleen I burn:
From jovial Friends, from Pipe and Bottle,
To Pray'rs and musty Aristotle,
From decent Meals, and wholsome Wines,
To foggy Coll. and Mutton Loins,
From well--bred Mirth, to stupid Puns,
Of Pedants and of College Dons,
My happy course of Life I change;
No more I dress, no more I range,
But pensive mope within all Day,
And sleep and rhime the Hours away;
A gentle Song to Laura send,
Or scribble something to my Friend;
This Morning, as I stalk'd about,
These Lines to thee I hammer'd out.

Thou, TOM, with Rapture and Delight,
Enjo'st the fair one in thy Sight,
The fair one too perhaps on thee,
Smiles, as she tattles o'er her Tea:
Whilst far from these distracted Eyes,
My absent Laura's Image flies,
To her my constant Thoughts I bend,
In Sighs to her my Wishes send;
In vain from Sighs I hope Relief,
And Thinking but augments my Grief;
Her distant Lips I seem to kiss,
And cheat my self with fancy'd Bliss.

Excuse me, that I say no more,
My Veins with raging Fires boil o'er,
Wild roll my Eyes, my Heart grows sad,
Pox take me if I don't run mad.