Poems, Volume 2

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J. Johnson, 1800
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Page 308 - Well done! As loud as he could bawl. Away went Gilpin — who but he? His fame soon spread around; He carries weight! he rides a race! 'Tis for a thousand pound!
Page 301 - JOHN GILPIN was a citizen Of credit and renown: A train-band captain eke was he Of famous London town. John Gilpin's spouse said to her dear, " Though wedded we have been These twice ten tedious years, yet we No holiday have seen. "To-morrow is our wedding-day, And we will then repair Unto the Bell at Edmonton All in a chaise and pair.
Page 302 - My sister, and my sister's child, Myself, and children three, Will fill the chaise; so you must ride On horseback after we.
Page 306 - For saddle-tree scarce reached 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 grieved him sore, Yet loss of pence, full well he knew, Would trouble him much more.
Page 109 - Nor his, who patient stands till his feet throb, And his head thumps, to feed upon the breath Of patriots, bursting with heroic rage, Or placemen, all tranquillity and smiles.
Page 303 - Ah luckless speech, and bootless boast ! For which he paid full dear, For while he spake a braying ass Did sing most loud and clear. Whereat his horse did snort as he Had heard a lion roar, And gallop'd off with all his might As he had done before.
Page 299 - Wouldst softly speak and stroke my head and smile — Could those few pleasant days again appear, Might one wish bring them, would I wish them here? I would not trust my heart : the dear delight Seems so to be desired, perhaps I might.
Page 297 - Thy maidens grieved themselves at my concern, Oft gave me promise of thy quick return. What ardently I wished, I long believed, And disappointed still, was still deceived. By expectation every day beguiled, Dupe of to-morrow even from a child. Thus many a sad to-morrow came and went, Till, all my stock of infant sorrow spent, I learned at last submission to my lot, But though I less deplored thee, ne'er forgot.
Page 179 - O thou bounteous giver of all good, Thou art of all thy gifts thyself the crown ! Give what thou canst, without thee we are poor ; And with thee rich, take what thou wilt away.
Page 307 - And keep it safe and sound. Each bottle had a curling ear, Through which the belt he drew, And hung a bottle on each side To make his balance true. Then over all, that he might be Equipped from top to toe, His long red cloak, well brushed and neat, He manfully did throw.

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