But still he seem'd to carry weight,
With leathern girdle brac'd;
For all might fee 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,.

P

And there he threw the wash about
On both fides 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 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!

But

I For

So

S

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 fong.

Away went Gilpin out of breath,
And fore against his will,
Till at his friend the calender's

His horfe at last stood still.

The calender, amaz'd to fee

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 shallSay why bare-headed you are come, Or why you come 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 foon be here -
They are upon the road.

The calender, right glad to find
His friend in merry pin,
Return'd him not a fingle word,
But to the house went in;

Whence straight he came with hat and wigs

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 your's,
They therefore needs must fit,

Away went Gilpin, and away

Went poft-boy at his heels!

The post-boy's horse right glad to miss The lumb'ring of the wheels.

Six gentlemen upon the road,

Thus seeing Gilpin fly,
With post-boy scamp'ring 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 toll-men thinking, as before,
That Gilpin rode a race.

And fo 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 fing-Long live the king,
And Gilpin, long live he;

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

THE YEARLY DISTRESS,

OR

TITHING TIME AT STOCK, IN ESSEX.

Verses addressed to a Country Clergyman complaining of the disagreeableness of the day annually appointed for receiving the Dues at the Parfonage.

COME, ponder well, for 'tis no jest,
To laugh it would be wrong,
The troubles of a worthy priest,
The burden of my fong.

This priest he merry is and blithe
Three quarters of the year,
But oh! it cuts him like a fithe
When tithing time draws near.