To a Friend in the Country ("Since to the town you've bid a long adieu")

Since to the town you've bid a long adieu,
To seek retirement, and your health renew,
Which nightly revels had too much impair'd,
Or when too much of Venus you had shar'd,
Till grave reflection bid you judge between
The charms of M--lb--y and the rural green;
Then since to softer scenes your heart's inclin'd,
My muse may now a friendly welcome find,
And you dispos'd to listen to her strains,
Whilst she in rural notes sings o'er the plains,
While fancy leads her o'er the shepherds lawn,
At close of evening, or at early dawn:
Tho' Edgware feels not Auburn's dreary fate,
Tho' Chandau lives not near with princely state,
Yet has thy Villa left, a thousand charms,
Thy wine gives ardor, and thy converse warms;
The fields adjacent yield the endless game ,
Tho' small thy gardens, yet they're known to Fame ;
Each grave old Cit, as he goes jogging by,
Longs for her matchless leg and lilly thigh,
And from his heart, wou'd fain with fate agree,
To have old Joan, his wife, as cold as she:
While here you talk a rainy hour away,
Or in the sunshine, join in rustic play,
Or when dispos'd for solitude and talk,
To have some H—d join your ev'ning's walk,
No artful gambler e'er should ope my door,
In hopes to win another hundred more;
No, by the Gods! such sharpers would I scorn,
And let the beggars die, as they were born.