THE DIVERTING HISTORY OF JOHN GILPIN.

SHOWING HOW HE WENT FARTHER THAN HE INTENDED, AND CAME SAFE HOME AGAIN.

BY WILLIAM COWPER.

[WILLIAM COWPER, English poet, was born at Great Berkhampstead, Hertfordshire, November 15, 1731. He was educated at Westminster School, where he remained from his tenth to his eighteenth year, and was called to the bar, but never practiced. He early showed symptoms of melancholia, and in 1763 had an attack of suicidal mania, which necessitated a temporary confinement in a private asylum at St. Albans. On his release he resided with the Unwins at Huntingdon, and the Rev. John Newton at Olney, and was tenderly cared for by Lady Austen and Lady Hesketh. Towards the close of his life his mental infirmities overcame him completely, and he died at East Dereham, Norfolk, April 25, 1800. His first volume of poems (1782) contained: "The Progress of Error," "Truth," "Table Talk," etc. "The Task," with "Tirocinium" and the famous "John Gilpin," appeared in 1785. He also published translations of Madame Guyon's poems, of Homer's Iliad and Odyssey, and of Milton's Latin and Italian poems.]

"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 furnished with our own,

Which is both bright and clear."

John Gilpin kissed 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 allowed

To drive up to the door, lest all

Should say that she was proud.

So three doors off the chaise was stayed,
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 saddletree scarce reached 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 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
Equipped from top to toe,

His long red cloak, well brushed 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 galled 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 grasped 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 falling 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,
Until he came unto the Wash
Of Edmonton so gay;

And here 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: "

Said Gilpin- "So am I!"