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Tomorrow 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; 50 yon, 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.'
Al 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 wifo ;

O'erjoy'd was he to find,
That though on pieasure she was bent,

She had a frugal mind.

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The morning came, the chaise was brought,

But yet was not allow'd
To drive up to the door, lest all

Shoald 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 wheols,

Were never folk so glad ;
The stones did rattle underneath,

As if Cheapside were mad.

John Gilpin at his horse's sido

Seiz'd 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 griev'd him sore,
Yet loss of pence, full well he knew,

Would trouble him much more.

'Twas long before the customess

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 lov'd,

And keep it safe and sound. Each bottle had a curling ear,

Through which the belt ho drew, And hung a bottle on each sido,

To make his balance true.

Then over zll, thailio might be

Equipp'd from top to toe, His long red cloak, well brush'd and noat

He mantully did throw.

Now sec him mounted once again

Upon his nimble steed,
Full slowly pacing n'er the stoner,

With caution and good heed.

But finding soon a smoother road

Beneath luis well shod feet,
The snorting brast beran to troi,

Which galld him in his seat.

So fair and softly, John lie cricd,

But John he cried in vain, That trot became ' gallop soon,

In spite of curb and rein.

So stooping down, as needs he must

Who ajunnut sit upright, Io grasp the mane with both his hands,

deko with all his might.

His lorse, 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 blew, 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 ev'ry soul cried out, 'Well done!

As loud as he could bawl.

Away #ent 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 lie drew near,

'Twas wonderful to view, How in a trice the turnpike men

Their gates wide open threw.

And not as he went bowing down

His reeking head fult tow,
The bottles twain behind his back

Wero shatter'd at a blow.

Down rah the wine into the road,

Most piteous to be seen, Which made his horse's flanks to smoke

Ae they had basted-been.

But still ho seem'd to carry weight,

With leathern girdle brac'd ; For all might see the bottle-nocks

Still dangling at his waist.

Thus all throug i merry Islington

These merry gambols ho did play, Until he came unto the Wash

O Edmonton so gay ;

And thore ho Urrew the wash about

On both sides of the way, Just like unto a trundling inop, 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, stor, Jolin Gilpin-Here's tho house

They all at once did cry;
The dinner waits, and we are tir’d's

Said Gilpin so am I?

But yet his horse was not a whit

Inclin’d 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.

The calender, amaz'd to seo

His neighbour in such trim,
Laid down his pipe, flew to the gato,

And thus accosted him:

What news? what news? your tidings tell ;

Tell me you must and shallSay why bareheaded you are como,

Or why you come at all ?

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