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, wondering 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 tired :

Said Gilpin " So am I!"

But yet his horse was not a whit
Inclined to tarry there;

For why ?-his owner had a house
Full ten miles ofî, 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 the Callender's
His horse at last stood still.

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 bareheaded 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 forbode,

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;

Whence 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 hungry 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 mistress Gilpin, when she saw
Her husband posting down

Into the country far away,

She pulled 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 lumbering of the wheels.

Six gentlemen upon the road,
Thus seeing Gilpin fly,

With postboy scampering in the rear,
They raised the hue and cry:-

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

And now the turnpike gates again
Flew open in short space;

The toll-men 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!

5. HUMAN FRAILTY.

Weak and irresolute is man,
The purpose of to-day,
Woven with toil into his plan,
To-morrow rends away.

The bow well bent and smart the spring,
Vice seems already slain,

But passion rudely snaps the string,
And it revives again.

Some foe to his upright intent
Finds out his weaker part,

Virtue engages his assent,

But pleasure wins his heart.

'Tis here the folly of the wise

Through all his art we view,
And while his tongue the charge denies,
His conscience owns it true.

Bound on a voyage of awful length,
And dangers little known,
A stranger to superior strength,
Man vainly trusts his own.

But oars alone can ne'er prevail
To reach the distant coast,
The breath of heaven must swell the sail,
Or all the toil is lost.

6. ALEXANDER SELKIRK.

I am monarch of all I survey;

My right there is none to dispute;

From the centre all round to the sea,

I am lord of the fowl and the brute. O Solitude, where are the charms

That sages have seen in thy face? Better dwell in the midst of alarms

Than reign in this horrible place.

I ain out of humanity's reach,

I must finish my journey alone,
Never hear the sweet music of speech-
I start at the sound of my own.
The beasts that roam over the plain
My form with indifference see;
They are so unacquainted with man,
Their tameness is shocking to me.

Society, friendship, and love,

Divinely bestow'd upon man, Oh, had I the wings of a dove,

How soon would I taste you again!

My sorrows I then might assuage

In the ways of religion and truth, Might learn from the wisdom of age And be cheer'd by the sallies of youth.

Religion! what treasure untold

Resides in that heavenly word! More precious than silver and gold

Or all that this world can afford. But the sound of the church-going bell These valleys and rocks never heard, Never sigh'd at the sound of a knell,

Or smil'd when a sabbath appear'd.

Ye winds that have made me your sport, Convey to this desolate shore

Some cordial endearing report

Of a land I shall visit no more.

My friends, do they now and then send
A wish or a thought after me?

Oh tell me I yet have a friend,

Though a friend I am never to sec.