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Now mistress Gilpin, when she saw
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 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 postboy at his heels, The postboy's horse right glad to miss
The lumb'ring of the wheels.
Six gentlemen upon the road,
Thus seeing Gilpin fly,
They rais’d 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
Flew open in short space ;
That Gilpin rode a race.
And so he did, and won it too,
For he got first to town ; Nor stopp'd till where he had got up
He did again get down.
Now let us sing, long live the king,
And Gilpin long live he ; And, when he next doth ride abroad,
May I be there to see!
AN AFFLIOTED PROTESTANT LADY IN FRANCE
The path of sorrow, and that path alone, Leads to the land where sorrow is unknown ; No trav’ller ever reach'd that blest abode, Who found not thorns and briers in his road. The World may dance along the flow'ry plain, Cheer'd as they go hy many a sprightly strain, Where Nature has her mossy velvet spread, With unshod feet they yet securely tread, Admonish'd, scorn the caution and the friend, Bent all on pleasure, heedless of its end. But he, who knew wbat human hearts would prore How slow to learn the dictates of his love,
That, hard by nature and of stubborn will, A life of ease would make them harder still, In pity to the souls his grace design'd To rescue from the ruins of mankind, Call'd for a cloud to darken all their years, And said, “Go, spend them in the vale of tears." O balmy gales of soul-reviving air ! O salutary streams, that muripur there ! These flowing from the fount of grace above, Those breath'd from lips of everlasting love. The flinty soil indeed their feet annoys; Chill blasts of trouble nip their springing joys; An envious World will interpose its frown, To mar delights superior to its own; And many a pang, experienc'd still within, Reminds them of their hated inmate, Sin: But ills of ev'ry shape and ev'ry name, Transform’d to blessings, miss their cruel aim ; And ev'ry moment's calm, that soothes the breast; Is giv'n in earnest of eternal rest.
Ah, be not sad, although thy lot be cast Far from the flock, and in a boundless waste ! No shepherd's tents within thy view appear, .But the chief Shepherd even there is near ; Thy tender sorrows and thy plaintive strain Flow in a foreign land, but not in vain ; Thy tears all issue from a source divine, And ev'ry drop bespeaks a Saviour thineSo once in Gideon's fleece the dews were found, And drought on all the drooping herbs around.
THE REV. W. CAWTHORNE UN.
The kindness of a friend,
As ever Friendship penn'd,
A union formd, as mine with thee,
Not rashly, or in sport,
And faithful in its sort,
The bud inserted in the rind,
The bud of peach or rose,
The stock whereon it grows,