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JOHN GILPIN.

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!
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 galloped off with all his might,
As he had done before.

Away went Gilpin, and away
Went Gilpin's hat and wig:
He lost them sooner than at first;
For why?-they were too big.

Now Mistress Gilpin, when she saw

Her husband posting down Into the country far away,

She pulled 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:

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But not performing what he meant
And gladly would have done,
The frighted steed he frighted more,
And made him faster run.

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

The post-boy's horse right glad to miss
The lumbering of the wheels.

Six gentlemen upon the road
Thus seeing Gilpin fly,

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 passed that way
Did join in the pursuit.

And now the turnpike-gates again

Flew open

in short space;

The toll-men thinking as before

That Gilpin rode a race.

And so he did; and won it too;

For he got first to town;

Nor stopped 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!

COWPER.

THE SKYLARK.

50. THE SKYLARK.

BIRD of the wilderness,

Blithesome and cumberless,

Sweet be thy matin o'er moorland and lea!
Emblem of happiness,

Blest is thy dwelling-place

Oh to abide in the desert with thee!

Wild is thy lay, and loud,
Far in the downy cloud;
Love gives it energy, love gave it birth.
Where, on, thy dewy wing,

Where art thou journeying?

Thy lay is in heaven, thy love is on earth.
O'er fell and fountain sheen,

O'er moor and mountain green,
O'er the red streamer that heralds the day,
Over the cloudlet dim,

Over the rainbow's rim,
Musical cherub, soar, singing, away!

Then, when the gloaming comes,

Low in the heather blooms

Sweet will thy welcome and bed of love be!
Emblem of happiness,

Blest is thy dwelling-place

Oh to abide in the desert with thee!

51. MUTABILITY.

CLOUD and sunshine, wind and weather,
Sense and sight, are fleeing fast;
Time and tide must fail together,
Life and death will soon be past;
But where day's last spark declines,
Glory everlasting shines.

HOGG.

MONTGOMERY.

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SPEAK GENTLY.

52. SPEAK GENTLY.

SPEAK gently! it is better far
To rule by love than fear :
Speak gently! let no harsh words mar
The good we might do here.

Speak gently! Love doth whisper low
The vows that true hearts bind;
And gently friendship's accents flow-
Affection's voice is kind.

Speak gently to the little child!
Its love be sure to gain;
Teach it in accents soft and mild:
It may not long remain.

Speak gently to the young, for they

Will have enough to bear:

Pass through this life as best they may; 'Tis full of anxious care.

Speak gently to the aged one,

Grieve not the care-worn heart;
The sands of life are nearly run—
Let such in peace depart.

Speak gently, kindly, to the poor,
Let no harsh tone be heard;
They have enough they must endure,
Without an unkind word.

THE COTTAGER TO HER INFANT.

Speak gently to the erring: know
They may have toiled in vain :
Perchance unkindness made them so :
Oh, win them back again!

Speak gently! He who gave his life
To bend man's stubborn will,
When elements were in fierce strife,
Said to them, "Peace! be still!"

Speak gently!-'tis a little thing,
Dropp'd in the heart's deep well;
The good, the joy which it may bring
Eternity shall tell.

BATES.

53. THE COTTAGER TO HER INFANT.

THE days are cold, the nights are long,
The north wind sings a doleful song;
Then hush again upon my breast,
All merry things are now at rest,
Save thee, my pretty love!

The kitten sleeps upon the hearth,
The crickets long have ceased their mirth;
There's nothing stirring in the house,
Save one wee, hungry, nibbling mouse—
Then why so busy thou?

Nay, start not at that sparkling light,
"Tis but the moon that shines so bright
On the window-pane bedropped with rain.
Then, little darling! sleep again,

And wake when it is day.

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WORDSWORTH.

G

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