And there he threw the Wash about At Edmonton his loving wife From the balcony spied Her tender husband, wondering much To see how he did ride. Stop, stop, John Gilpin !-Here's the houseThey all at once did cry, The dinner waits and we are tired: Said Gilpin-so am I. But yet his horse was not a whit For why? his owner had a house So like an arrow swift he flew Away went Gilpin, out of breath, The Callender amazed to see His neighbour in such trim, Laid down his pipe, flew to the gate, And thus accosted him What news? what news? your tidings tell, Tell me you must and shall Say why bare-headed you are come, Or why you come at all? Now Gilpin had a pleasant wit And loved a timely joke, And thus unto the Callender In merry guise he spoke I came because your horse would come; And if I well forebode, My hat and wig will soon be here, They are upon the road. The Callender, right glad to find Whence straight he came with hat and wig, He held them up and in his turn But let me scrape the dirt away Said John-It is my wedding-day, If wife should dine at Edmonton And I should dine at Ware. So turning to his horse, he said, I am in haste to dine, 'Twas for your pleasure you came here, Ah luckless speech, and bootless boast! Whereat his horse did snort as he And gallop'd off with all his might S. c.-6. Away went Gilpin, and away She pull'd out half a crown; And thus unto the youth she said This shall be yours when you bring back My husband safe and well. The youth did ride, and soon did meet But not performing what he meant, Away went Gilpin, and away Went post-boy at his heels, The post-boy's horse right glad to miss Six gentlemen upon the road With post-boy scampering in the rear, Stop thief, stop thief—a highwayman! And all and each that pass'd that way And now the turnpike gates again The toll-men thinking as before That Gilpin rode a race. And so he did, and won it too, Nor stopp'd till where he had got up Now let us sing, Long live the king, And Gilpin long live he, And when he next doth ride abroad, THE DISTRESSED TRAVELLERS; OR, LABOUR IN VAIN. An excellent New Song, to a Tune never sung before. 1. I SING of a journey to Clifton, We would have perform'd if we could, Poor Mary and me through the mud; Stuck in the mud, Oh it is pretty to wade through a flood! 2. So away we went, slipping and sliding, Go briskly about, But they clatter and rattle, and make such a rout! 3. SHE. Well! now I protest it is charming; HE. Pshaw! never mind; 'Tis not in the wind; We are travelling south, and shall leave it behind. 4. SHE. I am glad we are come for an airing, HE. The longer we stay, The longer we may ; It's a folly to think about weather or way. 5. SHE. But now I begin to be frighted; HE. Nay, never care! "Tis a common affair; You'll not be the last that will set a foot there. 6. SHE. Let me breathe now a little, and ponder On what it were better to do. That terrible lane, I see yonder, I think we shall never get through! HE. So think I ; But, by the bye,. We never shall know, if we never should try. |