So, fair and softly, John he cried,
But John he cried in vain
That trot became a gallop soon,
In spite of curb and rein.

So stooping down, as needs he must
Who cannot sit upright,

He grasp'd the mane with both his hands,
And eke with all his might.

His horse, who never in that sort
Had handled been before,

What thing upon his back had got

Did wonder more and more and more.

Away went Gilpin, neck or nought;
Away went hat and wig;

He little dreamt when he set out,
Of running such a rig.

The wind did blow, the cloak did fly,
Like streamer long and gay,
Till, loop and button failing both,
At last it flew away.

Then might all people well discern
The bottles he had slung;

A bottle swinging at each side,
As hath been said or sung.

The dogs did bark, the children scream'd,

Up flew the windows all;

And every soul cried out, Well done!
As loud as he could bawl.

Away went Gilpin-who but he?
His fame soon spread around,
He carries weight!-he rides a race!
"Tis for a thousand pounds!

And still as fast as he drew near,
'Twas wonderful to view,

How in a trice the turnpike men
Their gates wide open threw.

And now as he went bowing down
His reeking head full low,
The bottles twain behind his back.
Were shatter'd at a blow.

Down ran the wine into the road,
Most piteous to be seen,

Which made his horse's flanks to smoke.
As they had basted been.

But still he seem'd to carry weight,
With leathern girdle brac'd;
For all might see the bottle necks
Still dangling at his waist.

Thus all through merry Islington
These gambols he did play,
Until he came unto the Wash
Of Edmonton so gay;

And there he threw the wash about,
On both sides of the way,
Just like unto a trundling mop,
Or a wild goose at play.

At Edmonton his loving wife

From the balcony spied

Her tender husband, wond'ring much

To see how he did ride.

Stop, stop, John Gilpin!-Here's the house,

They all at once did cry;

The dinner waits, and we are tir'd;

Said Gilpin-so am I!

But yet his horse was not a whit
Inclin'd to tarry there;

For why his owner had a house
Full ten miles off at Ware.

So like an arrow swift he flew,
Shot by an archer strong,

So did he fly-which brings me to
The middle of my song.

Away went Gilpin out of breath,
And sore against his will,
Till at his friend's the calender
His horse at last stood still,

The calender, amaz'd 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 bareheaded you are come,

Or why you came at all?

Now Gilpin had a pleasant wit,
And lov'd a timely joke;
And thus unto the calender,
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 calender, right glad to find
His friend in merry pin,
Return'd him not a single word,
But to the house went in;

When straight he came with hat and wig,
A wig that flow'd behind,

A hat not much the worse for wear,
Each comely in its kind.

He held them up, and in his turn
Thus show'd his ready wit,
My head is twice as big as yours,
They therefore needs must fit.

But let me scrape the dirt away,
That hangs upon your face;
And stop and eat, for well you may
Be in a hungery case.

Said John, It is my wedding-day,
And all the world would stare,
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, You shall go back for mine.

Ah luckless speech, and bootless boast
For which he paid full dear:
For, while he spake, a braying ass
Did sing most loud and clear;

Whereat his horse did snort, as he
Had heard a lion roar,

And gallop'd off with all his might,
As he had done before.

Away went Gilpin, and away
Went Gilpin's hat and wig;
He lost them sooner than at first,
For why?-they were too big.

Now Mrs. Gilpin, when she saw
Her husband posting down

Into the country far away,

She pull'd out half a crown:

And thus unto the youth she said,

That drove them to the Bell,

This shall be yours, when you bring back
My husband safe and well.

The youth did ride, and soon did meet
John coming back amain,

Whom in a trice he tried to stop,
By catching at his rein:

But not performing what he meant
And gladly would have done,
The frighted steed he frighted more,
And made him faster run.

Away went Gilpin, and away,
Went postboy at his heels.

The postboy's horse right glad to miss
The lumb'ring of the wheels,

Six gentlemen upon the road,
Thus seeing Gilpin fly,

With postboy scampering in the rear,
They rais'd the hue and cry :--

Stop thief! stop thief!-a highwayman,
Not one of them was mute;
And all and each that pass'd that way,
Did join in the pursuit.

And now the turnpike gates again,
Flew open in short space;
The tollmen thinking, as before
That Gilpin rode a race.

And so he did and won it too,
For he got first to town;

Nor stopp'd till where he had got up,
He did again get down.

Now let us sing, long live the king,
And Gilpin long live he;

And, when he next doth ride abroad,
May I be there to see ?

CATHARINA.

ADDRESSED TO MISS STAPLETON,
(NOW MRS. COURTNEY.)

SHE came-she is gone-we have met-
And meet perhaps never again;

The sun of that moment is set

And seems to have risen in vain.