Were shatter'd at a blow.

Down ran the wine into the road,
Most piteous to be seen,

Which made his horses flanks to smoke,
As they had basted been.

But still he seem'd to carry weight,
With leathern girdle brac'd;
For all might see the bottle necks
Still dangling at his waist.
Thus all through merry Islington,
These gambols he did play,
And till he came unto the Wash
Of Edmonton so gay.

And there he threw the Wash about,
On both sides of the way;
Just like unto a trundling mop,
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, stop, John Gilpin! here's the house! They all at once did cry;

The dinner waits, and we are tir'd !"

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's Tom Callender's,
His horse at last stood still,

Tom Callender, surpris'd to see

His friend in such a trim,

Laid down his pipe, flew to the gate,

And thus accosted him :

"What news? What news? Your tidings tell;
Make haste and tell me all !
Say, Why bareheaded are you come ?
Or, Why you come at all ?”

Now Gilpin had a pleasant wit,
And lov'd a timely joke;
And thus unto Tom Callender,
In merry strains he spoke

"I came because your horse would come;
And if I well forebode,

My hat and wig will soon be here;
They are upon the road."

Tom Callender, right glad to find
His friend in merry pin,
Return'd him not a single word,
But to the house went in:

Whence straight he came with hat and wig,
A wig that flow'd behind,"
A hat not much the worse for wear;
Each comely in its kind.

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
That hangs upon your face;
And stop and eat-for well you may
Be in a hungry case!

Said John-"It is my wedding day;
And folks would gape and stare,
If wife should dine at Edmonton,
And I should dine at Ware!"

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 if

He heard a lion roar;

And gallop'd 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 Gilpin's wife, when she had seen
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 they met;
He tried to stop John's horse
By seizing fast the flowing rein;
But only made things worse:

But not performing what he meant,
And gladly would have done,
He thereby frighted Gilpin's horse,
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,

With postboy scamp'ring in the rear,

They rais'd the hue and cry.

Stop thief! stop thief! a highwayman!"

Not one of them was mute;

So they, and all that pass'd that way,
Soon join'd in the pursuit.

And now the turnpikes gates again
Flew open in short space;
The tollmen thinking, as before,
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!"

*

VII-The Creation of the World.-MILTON.
* MEANWHILE the Son
On his great expedition now appear'd,
Girt with omnipotence, with radience crown'd,
Of majesty divine; sapience and love
Immense, and all his father in him shone.
About his chariot numberless were pour'd
Cherub and seraph, potentates and thrones,
And virtues; wing'd spirits and chariots wing'd
From the armoury of God; where stand of old
Myriads, between two brazen mountains lodg'd
Against a solemn day, harness'd at hand.
Celestial equipage! and now came forth
Spontaneous, for within them spirit liv'd,
Attendant on their Lord; heaven open'd wide
Her everduring gates, harmonious sound!
On golden hinges moving, to let forth
The King of Glory, in his powerful Word
And Spirit, coming to create new worlds.

On heavenly ground they stood, and from the shore
They view'd the vast immeasurable abyss,
Outrageous as a sea; dark, wasteful, wild;
Up from the bottom turn'd by furious winds,
And surging waves, as mountains to assault
Heaven's height, and with the centre mix the pole

Silence, ye troubl'd waves! and thou deep, peace!
Said then the omnific Word, your discord end:
Nor stay'd! but on the wings of cherubim
Uplifted, in paternal glory rode

Far into chaos, and the world unborn:
For chaos heard his voice; him all his train
Follow'd in bright procession to behold
Creation, and the wonders of his might.
Then stay'd the fervid wheels, and in his hand
He took the golden compasses, prepar'd
In God's eternal store, to circumscribe
This universe, and all created things.
One foot he center'd, and the other turn'd
Round through the vast profundity obscure,
And said thus far extend, thus far thy bounds,
This be thy just circumference, O world!

Thus God the heaven created, thus the earth,
Matter unform'd and void! Darkness profound
Cover'd the abyss; but on the watery calm
His brooding wings the spirit of God outspread,
And vital virtue infus'd, and vital warmthi
Throughout the fluid mass; but downward purg'd
The black, tartareous, cold, infernal dregs,
Adverse to life; then founded, then conglob'd
Like things to like, the rest to several place
Disparted; and between, spun out the air ;
And earth self-balanc'd, on her centre hung.

VIII.-Overthrow of the Rebel Angels.--IB.
So spake the Son, and into terror chang'd
His countenance, too severe to be beheld,
And full of wrath bent on his enemies.
At once the four spread out their starry wings,
With dreadful shape contiguous, and the orbs
Of his fierce chariot roll'd, as with the sound
Of torrent floods, or of a numerous host.
He on his impious foes, right onward drove,
Gloomy as night. Under his burning wheels
The stedfast empirean shook throughout,
All but the throne itself of God. Full soon
Among them he arriv'd; in his right hand
Grasping ten thousand thunders, which he sent