And there he threw the wash about 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 aloud did cry; The dinner waits, and we are tired: Said Gilpin-So am I! But yet his horse was not a whit For why?-his owner had a house So like an arrow swift he flew, So did he fly--which brings me to Away went Gilpin out of breath, Till at his friend the calender's The calender, amazed to see His neighbour in such trim, Laid down his pipe, flew to the gate, 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, I came because your horse would come; My hat and wig will soon be here, The calender, right glad to find 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. 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, You shall go back for mine. Ah luckless speech, and bootless boast! 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, 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 By catching at his rein : But not performing what he meant, Went postboy at his heels, The postboy's horse right glad to miss The lumbering of the wheels. Six gentlemen upon the road, 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 pass'd that way Did join in the pursuit. And now the turnpike gates again That Gilpin rode a race. And so he did, and won it too, 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, |