Classic Poem

Dear Tom, this verse, which however the beginning may appear, yet in the end's good metre,
Is sent to desire that, when your August vacation comes, your friends you'd meet here.
For why should you stay in that filthy hole, I mean the city so smoky,
When you have not one friend left in town, or at least not one that's witty, to joke w'ye?
For, as for honest John, though I'm not sure on't, yet I'll be hanged, less he
Be gone down the county of Wexford with that great peer the Lord Anglesey.
Oh! but I forgot, perhaps, by this time, you may have one come to town, but I don't know whether he be friend or foe, Delany;
But, however, if he be come, bring him down, and you shall go back in a fortnight, for I know, there's no delaying ye.
Oh! I forgot too, I believe there may be one more, I mean that great fat joker, friend Helsham, he
That wrote the prologue, and if you stay with him, depend on't, in the end, he'll sham ye.
Bring down Long Shanks Jim too, but now I think on't, he's not come yet from Courtown, I fancy;
For I heard, a month ago, that he was down there a-courting sly Nancy.
However, bring down yourself, and you bring down all; for, to say it we may venture,
In thee Delany's spleen, John's mirth, Helsham's jokes, and the soft soul of amorous Jemmy centre.
POSTSCRIPT

I had forgot to desire you to bring down what I say you have, and you'll believe me as sure as a gun, and own it;
I mean, what no other mortal in the universe can boast of, your own spirit of pun, and own wit.
And now I hope you'll excuse this rhyming, which I must say is (though written somewhat at large) trim and clean;
And so I conclude, with humble respects as usual, your most dutiful and obedient