Away went Gilpin, and away
Went Gilpin's hat and wig!

He lost them fooner than at first-
For why they were too big!

Now, Mrs Gilpin, when the faw
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.

The youth did ride, and foon did meet

John coming back amain; Whom in a trice he tried to stop, By catching at his rein;

But, not performig what he meant,
And gladly would have done,
The frighted fteed he frighted more,
And made him faster run,

Away went Gilpin, and away
Went poft-boy at his heels!-

The poft-boy's horfe right glad to mifs
The lumb'ring of the wheels.

Six gentlemen upon the road,
Thus feeing Gilpin fly,

With post-boy fcamp'ring in the rear,
They rais'd the hue aud cry:—-

Stop thief! ftop thief!-a highwayman!
Not one of them was mute;
And all and each that pafs'd that way
Did join in the pursuit.

And now the turnpike gates again
Flew open in fhort space;
The toll-men thinking, as before,

That Gilpin rode a race.

And fo he did-and won it too!

For he got first to town;
Nor ftopp'd till where he had got up
He did again get down.

Now let us fing-Long live the king, And Gilpin, long live he;

And, when he next doth ride abroad, May I be there to see!






Anno Domini 1787.

Pallida Mors aquo pulsat pede pauperum tabernas,

Regumque turres.

Pale Death, with equal foot ftrikes wide the door
Of royal Halls and hovels of the Poor.


WHILE thirteen moons faw fmoothly run
The Nen's barge-laden wave,

All thefe, Life's rambling journey done,
Have found their home,the Grave.

Was Man, (frail always) made more frail
Than in foregoing years?

Did Famine or did Plague prevail,

That fo much death appears?

No.-These were vig'rous as their fires.
Nor Plague nor Famine came;
This annual tribute Death requires,
And never waves his claim.

Like crowded foreft-trees we ftand,
And some are mark'd to fall;
The axe will smite at God's command,
And foon fhall fmite us all.

Green as the Bay-tree, ever green
With it's new foliage on,

The Gay, the Thoughtless, I have seen,
I pafs'd-and they were gone.

Read, ye that run! the folemn truth
With which I charge my page;
A Worm is in the Bud of Youth,
And at the Root of Age.

No prefent Health can Health infure
Forget an hour to come;

No med'cine though it often cure,
Can always baulk the tomb.

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