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

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

Now see him mounted once again
Upon his nimble steed,
Jull slowly pacing o'er the stones
With caution and good heed.
ut finding soon a smoother road
Beneath his well-shod feet,
he snorting beast began to trot.
Which gall'd him in his seat.
, fair and softly, John, he cried,
But John he cried in vain;
hat 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, And 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.

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 :

id ev'ry soul cried out, Well done!
As loud as he could bawl.
vay went Gilpin-who but he;
His fame soon spread around--
carries weight! he rides a race!
Tis for a thousand pound.
ad still as fast as he drew near
'Twas wonderful to view
ow in a trice the turnpike-men
Their gates wide open threw.
nd now as he went bowing down
His reeking head full low,

The 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 inerry Islington
These gambols he 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 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 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 must and shall

Say 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 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 up on 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 specch, 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 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 Coll in Imitation of Gray's Elegy in a Country Church-yard. DUNCOM HE curfew tolls the hour of closing gates, With jarring sound the porter turns theses. Then in his dreary mansion slumb'ring waits,

THE

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 repos Oppress'd with ale, wide echoes thro' the g The droning music of his vocal nose. Within those walls, where through the g mering shade

Appear the pamphlets in a mouldering haz 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 fr No dread have they of discord and of s Unknown the names of husband and of sa Unfelt the plagues of matrimonial life. Oft have they bask'd beneath the sunny Oft have the benches bow'd beneath a weight,

How jocund are their looks when dinner c How smoke the cutlets on their crowded O! let not temperance, too disdainful, ber How long their feasts, how long their die

last:

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

ran,

"With hose ungarter'd, o'er von turfy bed, "To reach the chapel ere the psalms began ; There, in the arms of that lethargie chair, "Which rears its old moth-eaten back so high, “At noon he quafi'd three glasses to the fair, "And por'd upon the news with curious eye. "Now by the fire engag'd in serious talk, "Or mirthful converse, would he loitering "stand,

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

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hand.

"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.

Some Pelham, dreadful to his country's foes." From prince and people to command applause, 'Midst ermin'd peers to guide the high debate,

To shield Britannia's and Religion's laws,
And steer with steady course the helm of state-
Fate yet forbids; nor circumscribes alone
Their growing virtues, but their crimes con-

fines;

Forbids in Freedom's veil t'insult the throne; Beneath her mask to hide the worst designs ; To fill the madding crowd's perverted mind With "pensions, taxes, marriages, and Jews;" Or shut the gates of heaven on lost mankind, And wrest their darling hopes, their future

views.

far from the giddy town's tumultuous strife, Their wishes yet have never learn'd to stray; Content and happy in a single life,

They keep the noiseless tenor of their way. y'n now their books from cobwebs to protect, Inclos'd by doors of glass in Doric style, On polish'd pillars rais'd with bronzes deck'd, They claim the passing tribute of a smile: Oft are the authors' names, tho' richly bound, Mis-spelt by blundering binders' want of care; And many a catalogue is strew'd around, To tell the admiring guest what books are

there.

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64

The next we heard that in a neighbouring

66

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.

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." IN rural innocence secure I dwell, The Letter.

Alike to fortune and to fame unknown:

Approving conscience cheers my humble cell, And social quiet marks me for her own. Next to the blessings of religious truth,

Two gifts my endless gratitude engageA 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 lottier spheres unit, untaught to move; Content with calm domestic life, where meet The sweets of friendship, and the smiles of love.

$170. The Three Warnings. A Tale.
By Mrs. THKALE.

THE tree of deepest root is found

Least willing still to quit the ground;
'Twas therefore said by ancient sages,
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 groom
With him into another room;

And looking grave- You must,' says he, Quit your sweet bride, and come with me."

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 spokeNeighbour,' he said, farewell: no more Shall Death disturb your mirthful hour: • And farther, to avoid all blame

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 Dobsou cries.
So soon, d'ye call it !' Death replies ;
Surely, my friend, you're but in jest;
Since I was here before

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( Tis six-and-thirty-years at least, And you are now fourscore.'

So much the worse,' the clown rejoin'd; To spare the aged would be kind; However, see your search be legal; • And your authority---is 't regal ? Else you are come on a fool's errand,

• With but a secretary's warrant.

، Besides, you promis'd me titree warnings,

• Which I have look'd for nights and mornings !

، But for that loss of time and ease,

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I can recover damages.'

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

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، This is a shocking story, faith; Yet there's some comfort still,' says Death 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 we '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 warning ، 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, quorum Conspicitur nitidis fundata pecunia villis. Hes 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. Scarce past the turnpike half a mile, ، 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!"

Sir Traffic's name, so well applied, Awak'd his brother-merchant's pride; And Thrifty, who had all his life Paid utmost def'rence to his wife, Confess'd her arguments had reason; And by th'approaching summer season Draws a few hundreds from the stocks, And purchases his country box.

Some three or four miles out of town
(An hour's ride will bring you down)
He fixes on his choice abode,
Not half a furlong from the road;
And so convenient does it lay,
The stages pass it ev'ry day :

And then so snug, so mighty pretty,
To have a house so near the city!
Take but your places at the Boar,
You're set down at the very door.

Well then, suppose them fix'd at last, White washing, painting, scrubbing past: Hugging themselves in ease and clover, With all the fuss of moving over; Lo, a new heap of whims are bred, And wanton in my lady's head!

Well! to be sure, it must be own'd, It is a charming spot of ground: So sweet a distance for a ride, 'And all about so countryfied; Twould come but to a trifling price To make it quite a paradise! 'I cannot bear those nasty rails, Those ugly, broken, mouldy pales: Suppose, my dear, instead of these, We build a railing all Chinese;. Altho' one hates to be expos'd, Tis dismal to be thus inclos'd; 'One hardly any objects seesI wish you'd fell those odious trees. Objects continually passing by, Were something to amuse the eye; · But to be pent within the walls, One might as well be at St. Paul's. Our house beholders would adore, 'Was there a level lawn before, 'Nothing its views to incommode, But quite laid open to the road; While every traveller in amaze,

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Should on our little mansion gaze;

And, pointing to the choice retreat,

Cry, That's Sir Thrifty's country-seat !" No doubt her arguments prevail,

For Madam's TASTE can never fail.

Blest age! when all men inay procure The title of a connoisseur; When noble and ignoble herd Are govern'd by a single word; Tho, like the royal German dames, It bears an hundred Christian names— As Genius, Fancy, Judgment, Gout, Whim, Caprice, Je ne scais quoi, Virtô. Which appellations all describe TASTE, and the modern tasteful tribe.

Now bricklayers, carpenters, and joiners, With Chinese artists and designers,

Produce their schemes of alteration,
To work this wondrous reformation.
The useful dome, which secret stood,
Einbosom'd in the yew tree's wood,
The traveller with amazement sees
A temple Gothic or Chinese,
With many a bell and tawdy rag on,
And crested with a sprawling dragon;
A wooden arch is bent astride

A ditch of water, four feet wide,
With angels, curves and zig-zag lines,
From Halfpenny's exact designs;
In front a level fawn is seen,
Without a shrub upon the green;
Where Taste would want its first great law,
But for the skulking sly ha-ha;
By whose miraculous assistance
You gain a prospect to fields distance.
And now from Hyde-park Corner come,
The gods of Athens and of Rome.
Here squabby Cupids take their places,
With Venus, and the clumsy Graces;
Apollo there, with aim so clever,
Stretches his leaden bow for ever;
And there, without the pow'r to fly,
Stands fix'd a tip-toe Mercury.

The villa thus completely grac'd,
All own that Thrifty has a taste;
And Madam's female friends and cousins,
With common-council men by dozens,
Flock ev'ry Sunday to the seat,
To stare about them and to eat.

$172. Report of an adjudged Case, not to be found in any of the Books. COWPER. BETWEEN Nose and Eyes a strange contest

arose;

The spectacles set them unhappily wrong; The point in dispute was, as all the world knows, To which the said spectacles ought to belong. So the tongue was the lawyer, and argued the

cause

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