When lo! with grave and solemn pace, A steed advanc'd before the race, With age and long experience wise; Around he cast his thoughtful eyes, And, to the murmurs of the train, Thus spoke the Nestor of the plain.

"When I had health and strength like you The toils of servitude I knew; Now grateful man rewards my pains, And gives me all these wide domains.

At will I crop the year's increase; My latter life is rest and peace.

I grant, to man we lend our pains, And aid him to correct the plains; But doth not he divide the care, Through all the labours of the year?

How many thousand structures rise, To fence us from inclement skies!

For us he bears the sultry day, And stores up all our winter's hay.

He sows, he reaps the harvest's gain; We share the toil and share the grain.

Since every creature was decreed To aid each other's mutual need, Appease your discontented mind, And act the part by heaven a.s.sign'd."

The tumult ceas'd, the colt submitted, And, like his ancestors, was bitted.

JOHN GAY.

_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, A train-band Captain eke was he Of famous London town.

John Gilpin's spouse said to her dear, "Though wedded we have been These twice ten tedious years, yet we No holiday have seen.

To-morrow is our wedding day, And we will then repair Unto the Bell at Edmonton, All in a chaise and pair.

My sister and my sister's child, Myself and children three, Will fill the chaise, so you must ride On horseback after we."

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 linen-draper 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, And for that wine is dear, We will be furnish'd with our own, Which is both bright and clear."

John Gilpin kiss'd his loving wife; O'erjoyed was he to find 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, Where they did all get in; 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, Seized fast the flowing mane, And up he got, in haste to ride, But soon came down again; For saddle-tree scarce reach'd had he, His journey to begin, When, turning round his head, he saw Three customers come in.

So down he came; for loss of time, Although it grieved him sore, Yet loss of pence, full well he knew, Would trouble him much more.

'T was long before the customers Were suited to their mind, When Betty screaming, came downstairs, "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!

Had two stone bottles found, To hold the liquor that she loved, 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 did throw.

Now see him mounted once again Upon his nimble steed, Full slowly pacing o'er the stones With caution and good heed.

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 he cried, But John he cried in vain; That trot became a gallop soon, In spite of curb and rein.

So stooping down, as needs he must Who cannot sit upright, He grasp'd the mane with both his hands, And eke with all his might.

His horse, who never in that sort Had handled been before, What thing upon his back had got Did wonder more and more.

Away went Gilpin, neck or nought, 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 scream'd, Up flew the windows all, And ev'ry 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!"

"'T is for a thousand pound!"

And still, as fast as he drew near, 'T was 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 seem'd 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, 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:"

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.