They are not to be told by the dozen or score, Down on his knees the Bishop fell, And faster and faster his beads did he tell, As louder and louder drawing near The gnawing of their teeth he could hear. And in at the windows, and in at the door, They have whetted their teeth against the stones, And now they pick the Bishop's bones; They gnaw'd the flesh from every limb, For they were sent to do judgment on him. R. Southey LXXIV THE OLD COURTIER An old song made by an aged old pate, Of an old worshipful gentleman who had a great estate, That kept a brave old house at a bountiful rate, And the queen's old courtier. With an old lady whose anger one word assuages; They every quarter paid their old servants their wages, And never knew what belong'd to coachman, footman, nor pages, But kept twenty old fellows with blue coats and badges; Like an old courtier of the queen's, With an old study fill'd full of learned old books, With an old reverend chaplain, you might know him by his looks, With an old buttery hatch worn quite off the hooks, And an old kitchen, that maintain'd half a dozen old cooks; Like an old courtier of the queen's, With an old hall hung about with pikes, guns, and bows, With old swords, and bucklers, that had borne many shrewd blows, And an old frieze coat to cover his worship's trunk hose, And a cup of old sherry to comfort his copper nose; Like an old courtier of the queen's, With a good old fashion when Christmas was come To call in all his old neighbours with bagpipe and drum, With a good cheer enough to furnish every old room, And old liquor able to make a cat speak, and man dumb; Like an old courtier of the queen's, With an old falconer, huntsman, and a kennel of hounds, That never hawk'd nor hunted but in his own grounds, Who like a wise man kept himself within his own bounds, And when he died gave every child a thousand good pounds; Like an old courtier of the queen's, LXXV JOHN GILPIN John Gilpin was a citizen Of credit and renown, A train-band captain eke was he Old Song John Gilpin's spouse said to her dear, 'To-morrow is our wedding-day, And we will then repair All in a chaise and pair. 'My sister and my sister's child, Will fill the chaise; so you must ride He soon replied, 'I do admire And you are she, my dearest dear, 'I am a linen-draper bold, As all the world doth know, Quoth Mrs. Gilpin, 'That's well said; John Gilpin kiss'd his loving wife; That, though on pleasure she was bent, She had a frugal mind. The morning came, the chaise was brought, But yet was not allowed To drive up to the door, lest all Should say that she was proud. So three doors off the chaise was stay'd, Six precious souls, and all agog Smack went the whip, round went the wheels, John Gilpin, at his horse's side, For saddle-tree scarce reach'd had he, When, turning round his head, he saw So down he came; for loss of time, 'Twas long before the customers Were suited to their mind, When Betty, screaming, came downstairs, 'The wine is left behind!' 'Good lack!' quoth he, 'yet bring it me, Now mistress Gilpin, (careful soul !) |