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 it's kind. He held them up, and in his turn But let me scrape the dirt away, Said John, it is my wedding-day, So turning to his horse, he said, "Twas for your pleasure you came here, Ah luckless speech, and bootless boast! Did sing most loud and clear; Whereat his horse did snort, as he And gallop'd off with all his might, Away went Gilpin, and away Now mistress Gilpin, when she saw Into the country far away, She pull'd out half a crown; And thus unto the youth she said, This shall be yours, when you bring back 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, Away went Gilpin, and away Went postboy at his heels, The postboy's horse right glad to miss Six gentlemen upon the road, With postboy scamp'ring in the rear, Stop thief! stop thief!-a highwayman! And all and each that pass'd that way And now the turnpike gates again Flew open in short space; That Gilpin rode a race. 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! Ff AN EPISTLE ΤΟ AN AFFLICTED PROTESTANT LADY IN FRANCE. MADAM, A STRANGER'S purpose in these lays The path of sorrow, and that path alone, Leads to the land where sorrow is unknown; No trav❜ller ever reach'd that blest abode, Who found not thorns and briers in his road. The World may dance along the flow'ry plain, Cheer'd as they go by many a sprightly strain, Where Nature has her mossy velvet spread, With unshod feet they yet securely tread, EPISTLE TO A LADY IN FRANCE. Admonish'd, scorn the caution and the friend, 327 But he, who knew what human hearts would prove, To rescue from the ruins of mankind, 1 said, Go, spend them in the vale of tears." O balmy gales of soul reviving air! O salutary streams, that murmur there! These flowing from the fount of grace above, Ah, be not sad, although thy lot be cast Far from the flock, and in a boundless waste! No shepherd's tents within thy view appear, But the chief Shepherd even there is near; |