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The Blue Poetry Book
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Were never folks 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 downstairs,
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.
Now Mistress Gilpin, careful soul,
Had two stone bottles found,
To hold the liquor that she loved,
And keep it safe and sound.
Each bottle had a curling ear,
Through which the belt he drew,
And hung a bottle on each side
To make his balance true.
Then over all, that he might be
Equipp’d from top to toe,
His long red cloak well-brush’d and neat,
He manfully did throw.
Now see him mounted once again
Upon his nimble steed,
Full slowly pacing o’er the stones,
With caution and good heed.
But finding soon a smoother road
Beneath his well-shod feet,
The snorting beast began to trot,
Which gall’d him in his seat.
So, Fair and softly! John he cried,
But John he cried in vain;
That trot became a gallop soon,
In spite of curb and rein.
So stooping down, as needs he must
Who cannot sit upright,
He grasp’d the mane with both his hands
And eke with all his might.
His horse, who never in that sort
Had handled been before,
What thing upon his back had got
Did wonder more and more.
Away went Gilpin neck or nought,
Away went hat and wig;
He little dreamt, when he set out,
Of running such a rig.
The wind did blow, the cloak did fly,
Like streamer long and gay,
Till, loop and button failing both,
At last it flew away.
Then might all people well discern
The bottles he had slung;
A bottle swinging at each side
As hath been said or sung.
The dogs did bark, the children scream’d,
Up flew the windows all,
And every soul cried out, Well done!
As loud as he could bawl.
Away went Gilpin – who but he?
His fame soon spread around,
He carries weight, he rides a race,
’Tis for a thousand pound.
And still as fast as he drew near,
’Twas wonderful to view
How in a trice the turnpike-men
Their gates wide open threw.
And now as he went bowing down
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 downstairs,
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.
Now Mistress Gilpin, careful soul,
Had two stone bottles found,
To hold the liquor that she loved,
And keep it safe and sound.
Each bottle had a curling ear,
Through which the belt he drew,
And hung a bottle on each side
To make his balance true.
Then over all, that he might be
Equipp’d from top to toe,
His long red cloak well-brush’d and neat,
He manfully did throw.
Now see him mounted once again
Upon his nimble steed,
Full slowly pacing o’er the stones,
With caution and good heed.
But finding soon a smoother road
Beneath his well-shod feet,
The snorting beast began to trot,
Which gall’d him in his seat.
So, Fair and softly! John he cried,
But John he cried in vain;
That trot became a gallop soon,
In spite of curb and rein.
So stooping down, as needs he must
Who cannot sit upright,
He grasp’d the mane with both his hands
And eke with all his might.
His horse, who never in that sort
Had handled been before,
What thing upon his back had got
Did wonder more and more.
Away went Gilpin neck or nought,
Away went hat and wig;
He little dreamt, when he set out,
Of running such a rig.
The wind did blow, the cloak did fly,
Like streamer long and gay,
Till, loop and button failing both,
At last it flew away.
Then might all people well discern
The bottles he had slung;
A bottle swinging at each side
As hath been said or sung.
The dogs did bark, the children scream’d,
Up flew the windows all,
And every soul cried out, Well done!
As loud as he could bawl.
Away went Gilpin – who but he?
His fame soon spread around,
He carries weight, he rides a race,
’Tis for a thousand pound.
And still as fast as he drew near,
’Twas wonderful to view
How in a trice the turnpike-men
Their gates wide open threw.
And now as he went bowing down
Другие электронные книги автора Andrew Lang
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Очень интересная!