His scruples thus silenced, Tom felt more at ease, And went with his comrades the apples to seize; He blamed and protested, but join'd in the plan : He shared in the plunder, but pitied the man. THE MORNING DREAM. 'Twas in the glad season of spring, Far hence to the westward I sail'd, In the steerage a woman I saw, Such at least was the form that she wore, I go to make freemen of slaves." Then, raising her voice to a strain The sweetest that ear ever heard, Some clouds, which had over us hung, Thus swiftly dividing the flood, To a slave-cultured island we came, But soon as, approaching the land, And, the moment the monster expired, Awaking, how could I but muse At what such a dream should betide? To the black-sceptred rulers of slaves, THE DIVERTING HISTORY OF JOHN GILPIN; SHOWING HOW HE WENT FARTHER THAN HE INTENDED, AND CAME SAFE HOME AGAIN. JOHN GILPIN was a citizen Of credit and renown, John Gilpin's spouse said to her dear, To-morrow is our wedding-day, My sister, and my sister's child, Will fill the chaise; so you must ride He soon replied, I do admire Of womankind but one, And you are she, my dearest dear, Therefore it shall be done. I am a linendraper bold, As all the world doth know, And my good friend the calender Will lend his horse to go. Quoth Mrs. Gilpin, That's well said ; We will be furnish'd with our own, John Gilpin kiss'd his loving wife; That, though on pleasure she was bent, 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, Six precious souls, and all agog To dash through thick and thin. Smack went the whip, round went the wheels, Were never folk so glad, The stones did rattle underneath, As if Cheapside were mad. John Gilpin at his horse s side For saddletree scarce reach'd had he, When, turning round his head, he saw So down he came; for loss of time, 'Twas long before the customers Were suited to their mind, When Betty screaming came down stairs, "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. Now mistress Gilpin (careful soul!) To hold the liquor that she loved, |