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 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,

The frighted steed he frighted more,

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 scampering in the rear,
Thus raised the hue and cry:

"Stop thief! stop thief! a highwayman!"

Not one of them was mute;

And all and each that pass'd 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 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!

POOR JACK.

BY CHARLES DIBDIN.

[CHARLES DIBDIN was born in Southampton in the year 1745. He was intended for the Church, but his love of music caused him to relinquish all thoughts of the clerical profession. In 1762, he appeared on the boards of Richmond Theatre, but he did not excel as an actor, though his light dramatic pieces and musical compositions were eminently successful. His spirit-stirring sea-songs were very popular. For some time he enjoyed from Government a pension of 200l. a-year, but on a change of ministry he lost it. Such were his improvident habits, that, had it not been for his friends, who purchased for him an annuity, he would have been plunged in the direst poverty. He died in the year 1814.]

Go, patter to lubbers and swabs, do ye see,

'Bout danger, and fear, and the like;

A tight-water boat and good sea-room give me,

And it an't to a little I'll strike.

Though the tempest top-gallant masts smack smooth should smite, And shiver each splinter of wood,

Clear the deck, stow the yards, and bouse everything tight,

And under reef'd foresail we'll scud:

Avast! nor don't think me a milksop so soft

To be taken for trifles aback;

For they say there's a Providence sits up aloft,
To keep watch for the life of poor Jack!

I heard our good chaplain palaver one day
About souls, heaven, mercy, and such;

And, my timbers! what lingo he'd coil and belay;
Why, 'twas just all as one as High Dutch;

For he said how a sparrow can't founder, d'ye see, Without orders that come down below;

And a many fine things that proved clearly to me That Providence takes us in tow :

For, says he, do you mind me, let storms e'er so oft Take the top-sails of sailors aback,

There's a sweet little cherub that sits up aloft,

To keep watch for the life of poor Jack !

I said to our Poll-for, d'ye see, she would cry

When last we weigh'd anchor for sea,

What argufies sniv'ling and piping your eye?

Why, what a d--'d fool you must be !

Can't ye see, the world's wide, there's room for us all, Both for seamen and lubbers ashore?

And if to old Davy I should go, friend Poll,

You never will hear of me more.

What then? All's a hazard: come, don't be so soft :

Perhaps I may laughing come back;

For, d'ye see, there's a cherub sits smiling aloft,

To keep watch for the life of poor Jack!

D'ye mind me, a sailor should be every inch

All as one as a piece of the ship,

And with her brave the world, not offering to flinch From the moment the anchor's a-trip.

As for me, in all weathers, all times, sides, and ends, Nought's a trouble from a duty that springs,

For my heart is my Poll's and my rhino's my friend's, And as for my life 'tis the king's.

Even when my time comes, ne'er believe me so soft

As for grief to be taken aback!

For the same little cherub that sits up aloft

Will look out a good berth for poor Jack!