But finding soon a smoother road

Beneath his well-shod feet, The snorting beast began to trot, Which gall'd him in his seat.

So fair and softly,' John did cry,
But John he cry'd in vain;
That trot became a gallop soon
In spite of curb or rein.

So stooping down, as he needs must
Who cannot sit upright,

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

Away went Gilpin, neck or nought,
Away went hat and wig;

He little dreamt, when he set out,

Of running such a rig.

"The horse, who never had before
Been handled in this kind,
Affrighted fled; and, as he flew,
Left all the world behind.

The wind did blow, the cloak did fly,
Like streamer long and gay;
Till loop and button falling both,
At last it flew away.

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

The dogs did bark, the children scream'd, Up flew the windows all;

And ev'ry soul cry'd 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 shatter'd at a blow.

Down ran the wine into the road, · Most piteous to be seen,

And made his horse's flanks to smoke,

As he had basted been.

But still he seem'd to carry weight,
With leathern-girdle brac'd; ;
For still the bottle-necks were left
Both dangling at his waist.

Thus, all through merry Islington,
These gambols he did play
Until 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 balcony spied

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 tired!

'What news, what news?-the tidings tell,
'Make haste and tell me all ?
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 strains, he spoke

'I came because your horse would come, And, if I well forbode,

'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.

Whence straight he came with hat and wig,
A wig that droop'd behind,

A hat not much the worse for wear;
Each comely in its kind.

Then, speaking 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 word and bootless boast
For which he paid full dear;
For, while he spoke, a braying ass
Did sing most loud and clear:

Whereat his horse did snort, as if
He 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 Gilpin's wife, when she had seen
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.'