Either his gratitude shall hold him fast,
And keep him warm and filial to the last,
Or if he prove unkind, (as who can say
But being man, and therefore frail, he may,)
One comfort yet shall cheer thine aged heart,
Howe'er he slight thee, thou hast done thy part.

Oh barbarous! wouldst thou with a Gothic hand
Pull down the schools-what!-all the schools i' the land?
Or throw them up to livery-nags and grooms?

Or turn them into shops and auction rooms?
-A captious question, Sir, and yours is one,
Deserves an answer similar, or none.
Wouldst thou, possessor of a flock, employ
(Apprized that he is such) a careless boy,
And feed him well, and give him handsome pay,
Merely to sleep, and let them run astray?
Survey our schools and colleges, and see
A sight not much unlike my simile.
From education, as the leading cause,
The public character its colour draws,
Thence the prevailing manners take their cast,
Extravagant or sober, loose or chaste.

And though I would not advertise them yet,
Nor write on each―This Building to be let,
Unless the world were all prepared to embrace
A plan well worthy to supply their place,
Yet backward as they are, and long have been,
To cultivate and keep the MORALS clean,
(Forgive the crime) I wish them, I confess,
Ör better managed, or encouraged less.

THE

DIVERTING HISTORY

OF

JOHN GILPIN,

SHOWING HOW HE WENT FARTHER THAN HE INTENDED,
AND CAME SAFE HOME AGAIN.

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.

My sister and my sister's child,
Myself and children three
Will fill the chaise, so you must ride

On horseback after we.

He soon replied-I do admire

Of womankind but one,

And you are she, my dearest dear,
Therefore it shall be done.

I am a linen-draper bold,

As all the world doth know,
And my good friend the Callender
Will lend his horse to go.

Quoth Mrs. Gilpin-That's well said;
And for that wine is dear,

We will be furnish'd with our own,

Which is both bright and clear.

John Gilpin kiss'd his loving wife,
O'erjoyed was he to find

That though on pleasure she was bent,
She had a frugal mind.

The morning came, the chaise was brought,
But yet was not allow'd

To drive up to the door, lest all
Should say that she was proud.

So three doors off the chaise was stay'd,
Where they did all get in,

Six precious souls, and all agog

To dash through thick and thin.

Smack went the whip, round went the wheel, Were never folk so glad,

The stones did rattle underneath

As if Cheapside were mad.

John Gilpin at his horse's side

Seized fast the flowing mane,

And up he got in haste to ride,
But soon came down again.

For saddle-tree scarce reach'd 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.

'Twas long before the customers
Were suited to their mind,

When Betty screaming came down stairs, "The wine is left behind."

Good lack! quoth he, yet bring it me,

My leathern belt likewise,

In which I bear my trusty sword

When I do exercise.