Then over all, that he might be Equipp'd from top to toe, His long red cloak, well brush'd and neat, He manfully did throw. Now fee him mounted once again Upon his nimble steed, Full flowly pacing o'er the ftones But finding foon a finoother road The fnorting beaft began to trot, So, Fair and foftly, John he cried, That trot became a gallop foon, So stooping down, as needs he must Who cannot fit upright, He grasp'd the mane with both his hands, And eke with all his might. His horfe, who never in that fort What thing upon his back had got Away went Gilpin neck or nought, He little dreamt, when he fet out, Of running fuch a rig. The wind did blow, the cloak did fly, 'Till loop and button failing both, At laft it flew away. Then Then might all people well difcern The bottles he had flung; A bottle swinging at each fide, As hath been faid or fung. The dogs did bark, the children scream'd, Up flew the windows all; And ev'ry foul cried out, Well done! As loud as he could bawl. Away went Gilpin- who but he; He carries weight! he rides a race! And now as he went bowing down His reeking head full low, The bottles twain behind his back Were fhatter'd at a blow. Down ran the wine into the road, Moft piteous to be feen, Which made his horfe's flanks to finoke As they had bafted been. But ftill he feem'd to carry weight, For all might fee the bottle-necks And there he threw the wash about On both fides of the way, Juft like unto a trundling mop, Or a wild goofe at play. At Edmonton his loving wife From the balcony spied Her tender husband, wond'ring much To fee 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. |