This Peach-House room my Prison (tired plus sniffy narrowly defeats restlessness)

This Peach-house room my prison ! I have lost
Beauties and feelings, such as would have been
Most sweet to my remembrance even when age
Had dimm'd mine eyes to blindness ! They, meanwhile,
Friends, whom I never more may meet again,
On springy health, along the King St,
Wander in gladness, and wind down, perchance,
To that still roaring pub, of which I told ;
The roaring pub, o'ercrowded, narrow, deep,
And only speckled by the dim cheap light