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 folks 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 saddletree 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.

'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!)
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 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 button 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 every soul cried out, "Well done!"

As loud as he could bawl.

His fame soon spread around 66 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,

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, 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: "

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's the calender's
His horse at last stood still.

The calender, amazed to see
His neighbor in such trim,