X "He carries weight! he rides a race! 'Tis for a thousand pound!" And still, as fast as he drew near, 'Twas wonderful to view Their gates wide open threw. And now, as he went bowing down The bottles twain behind his back Down ran the wine into the road, Most piteous to be seen, Which made his horse's flanks to smoke As they had basted been. But still he seem'd to carry weight, Thus all through merry Islington And there he threw the wash about Just like unto a trundling mop, Or a wild goose at play. At Edmonton his loving wife From the balcony spied Her tender husband, wondering much To see how he did ride. Stop, stop, John Gilpin! - Here's the house,”— They all aloud did cry; "The dinner waits, and we are tired:" Said Gilpin "So am I.” But yet his horse was not a whit Inclined to tarry there; The calender, amazed to see His neighbor in such trim, Laid down his pipe, flew to the gate "What news? what news? your tidings tell; "I came because your horse would come; My hat and wig will soon be here,― The calender, right glad to find Returned him not a single word, But to the house went in; Whence straight he came with hat and wig: A wig that flowed behind, A hat not much the worse for wear Each comely in its kind. 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 way, She pulled out half a crown; And thus unto the youth she said "This shall be yours when you bring back My husband safe and well." From "The Fable for Critics."-Lowell. What! Irving? thrice welcome, warm heart and fine brain, You bring back the happiest spirit from Spain, And the gravest sweet humor, that ever was there But allow me to speak what I honestly feel, To a true-poet heart add the fun of Dick Steele, Throw in all of Addison, minus the chill, With the whole of that partnership's stock and good-will, The fine old English Gentleman, simmer it well, Let it stand out of doors till a soul it receives From the warm lazy sun loitering down through green leaves, And you'll find a choice nature, not wholly deserving A name either English or Yankee, —just Irving. BONNY KILMENY. From "The Queen's Wake." They lifted Kilmeny, they led her away, The sky was a dome of crystal bright, And the flowers of everlasting blow. Then deep in the stream her body they laid, That her youth and beauty never might fade; - And they smiled on heaven when they saw her lie And she heard a song - she heard it sung, Now shall the land of the spirits see, James Hogg. |