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And stop and eat, for well you may
Be in a hungry case.
And I should dine at Ware.
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 1
For which he paid full dear; For, while he spake, a braying ass
Did sing most loud and clear;
Had heard a lion roar,
As he had done before.
For why ?—they were too big. , Now mistress Gilpin, when she saw
Her husband posting clown
And thus unto the youth she said,
That drove them to the Bell, This shall ye your's 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,
And made him faster run.
Away went Gilpin, and away
Went post-boy at his heels,
The lumbering of the wheels.
Six gentlemen upon the road
Thus seeing Gilpin fly,
They raised the hue and cry :—
Stop thief! stop thief!—a highwayman!
Not one of them was mute;
Did join in the pursuit.
And now the turnpike gates again
The toll-men thinking as before
And so he did, and won it too,
For he got first to town;
He did again get down.
Now let us sing, long live the king,
And Gilpin, long live he;
May I be there to see!
TO THE REV. MR. NEWTON.
AN INVITATION INTO THE COUNTRY. I.
The swallows in their torpid state
Compose their useless wing, And bees in hives as idly wait
The call of early spring.
The keenest frost that binds the stream.
The wildest wind that blows,
Secure of their repose.
But man, all feeling and awake,
The gloomy scene surveys; With present ills his heart must ake,
And pant for brighter days.
Bids me and Mury mourn;
And whispers your return.
Shall chase him from the bowers, And weave fresh garlands every d.ay,
To crown the smiling hours.
Of happier times, appear,
Shall shine and dry the tear,
ADDRESSED TO MISS STAPLEfON.
She came—she is gone—we have met—
And meet perhaps never again; The sun of that moment is set,
And seems to have risen in vain. Catharina has fled like a dream—
(So vanishes pleasure, alas!) But has left a regret and esteem,
That will not so suddenly pass.
The last evening ramble we made,
Catharina, Maria, and I, Our progress was often delayed
By the nightingale warbling nigh. We paused under many a tree,
And much she was charmed with a tone Less sweet to Maria and me,
Who had witnessed so lately her own.
"My numbers that day she had sung,
As only her musical tongue