The Task, and Other Poems Part 12

Away went Gilpin, neck or naught; Away went hat and wig; He little dreamt, when he set out, Of running such a rig.

The wind did blow, the cloak did fly, Like streamer long and gay, Till, loop and b.u.t.ton failing both, At last it flew away.

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

The dogs did bark, the children screamed, Up flew the windows all; And every soul cried out, "Well done!"

As loud as he could bawl.

Away went Gilpin--who but he?

His fame soon spread around-- He carries weight! he rides a race!

'Tis for a thousand pound!

And still, as fast as he drew near, 'Twas wonderful to view How in a trice the turnpike men Their gates wide open threw.

And now, as he went bowing down His reeking head full low, The bottles twain behind his back Were shattered 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 seemed to carry weight, With leathern girdle braced; For all might see the bottle-necks Still dangling at his waist.

Thus all through merry 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 the bal-cony spied Her tender husband, wondering 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 tired."

Said Gilpin, "So am I!"

But yet his horse was not a whit Inclined 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 middle of my song.

Away went Gilpin, out of breath, And sore against his will, Till at his friend the Calender's His horse at last stood still.

The Calender, amazed 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 bareheaded you are come, Or why you come at all."

Now Gilpin had a pleasant wit, And loved a timely joke; And thus unto the Calender 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 Calender, right glad to find His friend in merry pin, Returned him not a single word, But to the house went in;

Whence straight he came with hat and wig, A wig that flowed behind, A hat not much the worse for wear, Each comely in its kind.

He held them up, and, in his turn, Thus showed his ready wit,-- "My head is twice as big as yours; They therefore needs must fit.

"But let me sc.r.a.pe the dirt away That hangs upon your face; And stop and eat, for well you may Be in a hungry case."

Says 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 boast!

For which he paid full dear; For while he spake, a braying a.s.s Did sing most loud and clear;

Whereat his horse did snort as he Had heard a lion roar, And galloped 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 pulled 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 postboy at his heels, The postboy's horse right glad to miss The lumbering of the wheels.

Six gentlemen upon the road Thus seeing Gilpin fly, 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 pa.s.sed that way Did join in the pursuit.

And now the turnpike gates again Flew open in short s.p.a.ce, The tollmen thinking, as before, That Gilpin rode a race.

And so he did, and won it too, For he got first to town; Nor stopped 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!"

AN EPISTLE TO JOSEPH HILL, ESQ.

DEAR JOSEPH,--five and twenty years ago-- Alas, how time escapes!--'tis even so-- With frequent intercourse, and always sweet And always friendly, we were wont to cheat A tedious hour--and now we never meet.

As some grave gentleman in Terence says ('Twas therefore much the same in ancient days), "Good lack, we know not what to-morrow brings-- Strange fluctuation of all human things!"

True. Changes will befall, and friends may part, But distance only cannot change the heart: And were I called to prove the a.s.sertion true, One proof should serve--a reference to you.

Whence comes it, then, that in the wane of life, Though nothing have occurred to kindle strife, We find the friends we fancied we had won, Though numerous once, reduced to few or none?

Can gold grow worthless that has stood the touch?

No. Gold they seemed, but they were never such.

Horatio's servant once, with bow and cringe, Swinging the parlour-door upon its hinge, Dreading a negative, and overawed Lest he should trespa.s.s, begged to go abroad.

"Go, fellow!--whither?"--turning short about-- "Nay. Stay at home; you're always going out."-- "'Tis but a step, sir; just at the street's end."

"For what?"--"An please you, sir, to see a friend."