Volume 5 — A SONG.
Reading edition
[Listen]
SLaves to London I’ll deceive you, For the Country now I leave you: Who can bear, and not be Mad, Wine so dear, and yet so bad: Such a Noise and Air so smoaky, That to stun, this to choak ye; Men so selfish, false and rude, Nymphs so young and yet so lew’d. Quiet harmless Country Pleasure, Shall at home engross my Leisure; Farewel London, I’ll repair, To my Native Country Air: I leave all thy Pleasures behind me, But at home my Wife will find me; Oh the Gods! ’tis ten times worse, London is a milder Curse.