At my leaving Cambridge August the 14th, Extempore.

At my leaving Cambridge August the 14th, Extempore.

Cambridge adieu! I ne'er shall see thee more, Nor feast my Soul at Learning's mighty Store; Not one fresh Drop of thy ambrosial Sense, To quench my Thirst at learned Cham's Expence; Apollo's Fountain I must ever quit, Who's only Nectar is the streams of Wit; I thy fair Colleges no more shall see, Each Greece, Rome, Athens, in Epitomy; The antient infant Learning which they taught, Could only here be to Perfection brought; They've finish'd all, each long hid Spring discern, The Gods themselves may hover here and learn; And if in every Grace they would advance, Let B— give Wit, and G— teach Complaisance; To th' sacred Vatican no more I come, But grieve like Ovid when excluded Rome.