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John Gilpin's spouse said to her dear, Though wedded we have been These twice ten tedious years, yet we No holiday have seen. de-To-morrow is our wedding-day, And we will then repair Unto the Bell at Edmonton, All in a chaise and pair.

The friendly succour of your healing hands;
The feather of your pen drops balm around,
And plays and tickles, while it cures the wound.
While Pope's immortal labourwe survey,
We stand all dazzled with excess of day;
Blind with the glorious blaze-to vulgar sight
Twas one bright mass of undistinguish'd light;
But, like the tow'ring eagle, you alone
Discern'd the spots and splendors of the sun.
To point our faults, yet never to offend;
To play the critic, yet preserve the friend:
A life well spent, that never lost a day;
An easy spirit, innocently gay,

A strict integrity, devoid of art;

The sweetest manners, and sincerest heart;

A soul, where depth of sense and fancy meet A judgment brighten'd by the beams of witWere ever yours: be what you were before, Be still yourself; the world can ask no more.

$167. The Enquiry. Written in the last Century. AMONGST the myrtles as I walk'd,

Love and my sighs thus intertalk'd: Tell me, said I, in deep distress, Where may I find my shepherdess?" "Thou fool, said Love, know'st thou not this? "In every thing that's good, she is ; "In yonder tulip go and seek, "There thou may'st find her lip, her cheek; "In yon enamell'd pansy by, "There thou shalt have her curious eye; "In bloom of peach, in rosy bud, "There wave the streamers of her blood; "In brightest lilies that there stand, "The emblems of her whiter hand; "In yonder rising hill there smell "Such sweets as in her bosom dwell: "Tis true," said he. And thereupon I went to pluck them one by one, To make of parts an union; But on a sudden all was gone. With that I stopp'd. Said Love, "These be, "Fond man, resemblances of thee; "And as these flow'rs thy joy shall die, "E'en in the twinkling of an eye; "And all thy hopes of her shall wither, "Like these short sweets that knit together."

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My sister and my sister's child,
Myself and children three,
Will fill the chaise, so you must ride

On horseback after we.

He soon replied, I do admire

Of woman kind but one;
And you are she, my dearest dear,
Therefore it shall be done.

I am a linen-draper bold,

As all the world doth know, And my good friend the callender Will lend his horse to go. Quoth Mistress Gilpin, that's well said;

And, for that wine is dear, We will be furnish'd with our own, Which is both bright and clear. John Gilpin kiss'd his loving wife; That, though on pleasure she was bent, O'erjoy'd was he to find She had a frugal mind.

The morning came, the chaise was brought, But yet was not allow'd

To drive up to the door, lest all

Should say that she was proud. So three doors off the chaise was stay'd, Where they did all get in,

Six precious souls, and all agog

To dash through thick and thin. Smack went the whip, round went the wh Were never folks so glad; The stones did rattle underneath As if Cheapside were mad, John Gilpin at his horse's side.

Seiz'd fast the flowing mane; And up he got in haste to ride, But soon came down again: For saddle-tree scarce reach'd had he, When turning round his head, he saw His journey to begin,

Three customers come in.

So down he came; for loss of time,
Although it griev'd him sore,
Yet loss of pence, full well he knew,

Would trouble him much more. 'Twas long before the customers

Were suited to their mind; When Betty screaming eame down stair, "The wine is left behind !" Good lack! quoth he-yet bring it me,

My leathern belt likewise,

In which I bear my trusty sword
When I do exercise.


Wow Mistress Gilpin, careful soul!
Had two stone bottles found,
to hold the liquor that she lov'd,
And keep it safe and sound.
ich bottle had a curling ear,
Through which the belt he drew,
nd hung a bottle on each side,
To make his balance true;
Then over all, that he might be
Equipp'd from top to toe,

is long red cloak, well brush'd and neat, He manfully id throw.

ow see him mounted once again Upon his nimble steed, all slowly pacing o'er the stones With caution and good heed. at finding soon a smoother road Beneath his well-shod feet, e snorting beast began to trot. Which gall'd him in his seat. , fair and softly, John, he cried, But John he cried in vain ; mat trot became a gallop soon, In spite of curb and rein. stooping down, as needs he must Who cannot sit upright,

grasp'd the mane with both his hands, Aad eke with all his might.

s horse, who newer in that sort
Had handled been before,
hat thing upon his back had got
Did wonder more and more.

vay went Gilpin, neck or nought,
Away went hat and wig;
little dreamt, when he sat out,
Of running such a rig.

e wind did blow, the cloak did fly,
Like streamer long and gay,

1, loop and button failing both,
At last it flew away.

en might all people well discern
The bottles he had slung:
bottle swinging at each side,
As hath been said or sung.

e dogs did bark, the children scream'd, Up flew the windows all :

d ev'ry soul cried out, Well done! As loud as he could bawl. way went Gilpin-who but he; His fame soon spread around-carries weight! he rides a race! Tis for a thousand pound. d still as fast as he drew near Twas wonderful to view w in a trice the turnpike-men Their gates wide open threw.

now as he went bowing down His reeking head full low,

e bottles twain behind his back Were shatter'd at a blow,

|Down ran the wine into the road,

Most piteous to be seen,

Which made his horse's flanks to smoke
As they had basted been.

But still he seem'd to carry weight,
With leathern girdle brac'd;
For all might see the bottle neck's
Still dangling at his waist.
Thus all through merry Islington
These gambols ue did play,
And till he came unto the Wash
Of Edmonton so gay.

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 balcony espied

Her tender husband, wond'ring much
To see how he did tide.

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 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 nriddle of my song.

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

His horse at last stood still.

The callender, amaz'd 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 inust and shall—

Say why bare-headed you are come,
Or why you came at all?
Now Gilpin had a pleasant wit,
And lov'd a timely joke;
And thus unto the callender
In merry guise he spoke :

I came because your horse would come,
And, if I well forebode,
My hat and wig will soon be here,
They are upon the road.
The callender, right glad to find
His friend in merry pin,
Return'd him not a single word,
But to the house went in.

When 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

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He held them up, and in his turn
Thus shew'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 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 pull'd 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 post-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-inen 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 first 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!

$169. An Evening Contemplation in a Colleg in Imitation of Gray's Elegy in a Country Church-yard. DUNCOM THE Curfew tolls the hour of closing gates.

With jarring sound the porter turns the ket Then in his dreary mansion slumb'ring waits, And slowly, sternly, quits it though for u Now shine the spires beneath the paly moon, And thro' the cloisters peace and silence reiz Save where some fidler scrapes a drowsy tune,

Or copious bowls inspire a jovial strain; Save that in yonder cobweb-mantled room, Where sleeps a student in profound repes Oppress'd with ale, wide echoes thro' the gl The droning music of his vocal nose. Within those walls, where through the mering shade

Appear the pamphlets in a mouldering her Each in his narrow bed till morning laid,

The peaceful fellows of the college sleep. The tinkling bell proclaiming early pray's, The noisy servants rattling o'er their be The calls of business, and domestic cares, Ne'er rouse these sleepers from their do No chattering females crowd their social

No dread have they of discord and of st Unknown the names of husband and of Unfelt the plagues of matrimonial life. Oft have they bask'd beneath the sunny # Oft have the benches bow'd beneath

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ɔme Pelham, dreadful to his country's foes. in prince and people to command applause, fidst ermin'd peers to guide the high debate,

Haply some friend may shake his hoary head
And say, "Each morn unchill'd by frosts he

from the giddy town's tumultuous strife,
eir wishes yet have never learn'd to stray;
ent and happy in a single life,
ey keep the noiseless tenor of their way.
now their books from cobwebs to protect,
clos'd by doors of glass in Doric style,
olish'd pillars rais'd with bronzes "deck'd,
ey claim the passing tribute of a smile:
are the authors' names, tho' richly bound,
is-spelt by blundering binders' want of care;
many a catalogue is strew'd around,
> tell the admiring guest what books are


who, to thoughtless ignorance a prey,
eglects to hold short dalliance with a book?
o there but wishes to prolong his stay,
ad on those cases casts a lingering look?

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shield Britannia's and Religion's laws,
id steer with steady course the helm of state

yet forbids; nor circumscribes alone
heir growing virtues, but their crimes con-

ids in Freedom's veil t'insult the throne;
neath her mask to hide the worst designs; IN rural innocence secure I dwell,

"Then in the garden chose a sunny walk,
“Or launch'd the polish'd bowl with steady


"One morn we miss'd him at the hour of prayer, "Nor in the hall, nor on his favourite green: "Another came, nor yet within the chair,

"Nor yet at bowls or chapel was he seen. "The next we heard that in a neighbouring "shire,

"That day to church he led a blushing bride, A nymph whose snowy vest and maiden fear Improv'd her beauty while the knot was "tied.


ports attract the lawyer's parting eyes, ovels Lord Fopling and Sir Flume require; songs and plays the voice of Beauty cries, nd Sense and Nature Grandison desire. thee, who, mindful of thy lov'd compeers, ost in these lines their artless tale relate, hance, with prying search, in future years, ome antiquarian should inquire thy fate;

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ill the madding crowd's perverted mind
th"pensions, taxes, marriages, and Jews;"Approving conscience cheers my humble cell,
hut the gates of heaven on lost mankind,
ad wrest their darling hopes, their future

And social quiet marks me for her own.
Next to the blessings of religious truth,


Two gifts my endless gratitude engage— A wife, the joy and transport of my youth:

Now with a son, the comfort of my age. Seck not to draw me from this kind retreat,

In lofter spheres unit, untaught to move; Content with calm domestic life, where meet The sweets of friendship, and the smiles of love.

Now, by his patron's bounteous care remov'd,
"He roves enraptur'd thro' the fields of Kent;
Yet, ever mindful of the place he lov'd,
"Read here the letter which he lately sent.”
The Letter.

Alike to fortune and to fame unknown:

$170. The Three Warnings. A Tale. By Mrs. THRALE. T

HE tree of deepest root is found Least willing still to quit the ground; 'Twas therefore said by ancient sages,

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That love of life increas'd with years
So much, that in our latter stages,
When pains grow sharp, and sickness rages,
The greatest love of life appears.
This great affection to believe,
Which all confess, but few perceive,
If old assertions can't prevail,
Be pleas'd to hear a modern tale.

When sports went round, and all were gay,
On neighbour Dobson's wedding-day,
Death call'd aside the jocund grooin
With him into another room;
And looking grave- You must,' says he,
Quit your sweet bride, and come with me."
3 Ć

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With you? and quit my Susan's side?
With you? the hapless husband cried:
Young as I am, 'tis monstrous hard!
Besides, in truth, I'm not prepar'd:
My thoughts on other matters go;
This is my wedding night, you know.'
What more he urg'd I have not heard,

His reasons could not well be stronger;
So Death the poor delinquent spar'd,
And left to live a little longer.
Yet calling up a serious look,
His hour-glass trembled while he spoke-
Neighbour,' he said, farewell: no more
Shall Death disturb your mirthful hour:
And farther, to avoid all blame

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Of cruelty upon my name,

To give you time for preparation,
And fit you for your future station,
Three several warnings you shall have,
Before you're summon'd to the grave:
Willing for once I'll quit my prey,
And grant a kind reprieve;

In hopes you'll have no more to say, • But when I call again this way,

Well pleas'd the world, will leave.' To these conditions both consented, And parted perfectly contented.

What next the hero of our tale befel,
How long he liv'd, how wise, how well,
How roundly he pursu'd his course,
And smok'd his pipe, and strok'd his horse,
The willing muse shall tell :
He chaffer'd then, he bought, he sold,
Nor once perceiv'd his growing old,

Nor thought of death as near;
His friends not false, his wife no shrew,
Many his gains, his children few,

He pass'd his hours in peace:
But while he view'd his wealth increase,
While thus a long life's dusty road
The beaten track content he trod,
Old Time, whose haste no mortal spares,
Uncall'd, unheeded, unawares,

Brought on his eightieth year.

And now, one night, in musing mood,
And all alone, he sate,
Th' unwelcome messenger of Fate
Once more before him stood.
Half kill'd with anger and surprise,
So soon return'd!' old Dobson cries.
So soon, d'ye call it !' Death replies ;
Surely, my friend, you're but in jest ;
Since I was here before

'Tis six-and-thirty-years at least,

And you are now fourscore.'

So much the worse,' the clown rejoin'd;

To the aged would be kind;


However, see your search be legal;

And your authority--is 't regal?

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Else you are come on a fool's errand,

Besides, you promis'd me three warnings,

Which I have look'd for nights and mornings! But for that loss of time and ease,

I can recover damages.'

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'I know,' cries Death, that, at the best, I seldom am a welcome guest; But don't be captions, friend, at least: I little thought you'd still be able To stump about your farm and stable; Your years have run to a great length; I wish you joy, tho', of your strength! Hold,' says the farmer, not so fast! I have been lame these four years past." And no great wonder,' Death replies: However, you still keep your eyes; And sure to see one's loves and friends, For legs and arms would make amends.

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Perhaps,' says Dobson, so it might, But latterly I've lost my sight."

This is a shocking story, faith; Yet there's some comfort still,' says Dea Each strives your sadness to amuse; I warrant you hear all the news.'

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There's none,'cries he; and if there wer 'I'm grown so deaf, I could not hear.' Nay, then!' the spectre stern rejoin'd,

These are unjustifiable yearnings; If you are lame, and deaf, and blind, You have had your three sufficient warni So come along, no more we'll part:' He said, and touch'd him with his dart; And now old Dobson turning pale, Yields to his fate-so ends my tale.

§ 171. The Cit's Country Bor. LLOYD Vos sapere, et solos aio bene vivere, quorur Conspicitur nitidis fundata pecunia villis. Ho THE wealthy cit, grown old in trade,

Now wishes for the rural shade, And buckles to his one-horse chair Old Dobbin, or the founder'd mare; While wedg'd in closely by his side, Sits Madam, his unwieldy bride, With Jacky on a stool before 'em, And out they jog in due decorum. Searce past the turnpike half a mile,

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How all the country seems to smile!' And as they slowly jog together,

The cit commends the road and weather:
While Madam doats upon the trees,
And longs for ev'ry house she sees;
Admires its views, its situation,
And thus she opens her oration:

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What signifies the loads of wealth,
Without that richest jewel, health?
Excuse the fondness of a wife,
Who doats upon your precious life!
Such ceaseless toil, such constant care.
Is more than human strength can bear:
One inay observe it in your face-
Indeed, my dear, you break apace;
And nothing can your health repair,
But exercise and country air.

Sir Traffic has a house, you know,
About a mile from Cheney-row:
He's a good man, indeed, 'tis true;
But not so warm, my dear, as you :
And folks are always apt to sneer-
One would not be outdone, my dear!"

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