Laid down his pipe, flew to the gate, "What news? what news? your tidings tell; Tell me you must and shall Say why bareheaded you are come, Or why you come at all? " Now Gilpin had a pleasant wit, "I came because your horse would come; And, if I well forbode, My hat and wig will soon be here, They are upon the road." The calender, right glad to find But to the house went in; Whence straight he came with hat and wig, A hat not much the worse for wear He held them up, and in his turn Thus show'd his ready wit "My head is twice as big as yours, They therefore needs must fit. "But let me scrape the dirt away Said John, "It is my wedding-day, So turning to his horse, he said, "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, Whereat his horse did snort, as he And gallop'd off with all his might, Away went Gilpin, and away Now Mistress Gilpin, when she saw 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 soon did meet Whom in a trice he tried to stop, But not performing what he meant, Away went Gilpin, and away Went post-boy at his heels, The post-boy's horse right glad to miss Six gentlemen upon the road, With post-boy scampering in the rear, They raised the hue and cry: "Stop thief! stop thief- a highwayman!" Not one of them was mute; And all and each that pass'd that way Did join in the pursuit. And now the turnpike-gates again And so he did, and won it too, Nor stopp'd till where he had got up He did again get down. Now let us sing, Long live the king! And when he next doth ride abroad, AN EXPERIENCE AND A MORAL BY FREDERICK SWARTWOUT COZZENS I lent my love a book one day; She brought it back; I laid it by: "T was little either had to say, She was so strange, and I so shy. The sprouting buds, the birds in tune, And Time stood still and wreathed his wings With rosy links from June to June. For her, what task to dare or do? What peril tempt? what hardship bear? But with her ah! she never knew - My heart, and what was hidden there! And she, with me, so cold and coy, She married, well, a woman needs A mate, her life and love to share, And little cares sprang up like weeds And played around her elbow-chair. And years rolled by, but I, content, Trimmed my own lamp, and kept it bright, Till age's touch my hair besprent With rays and gleams of silver light. And then it chanced I took the book My soul, I needs must curse or cry. For, here and there, her love was writ, - Her heart in dots and underlines. Ah, silvered fool, too late you look! |