English Narrative Poems

Narrative poetry, English; Readers -- Poetry
So three doors off the chaise was stay'd,
      Where they did all get in;
    Six precious souls, and all agog[5]
      To dash through thick and thin.                                 40

    Smack went the whip, round went the wheels,
      Were never folks so glad,
    The stones did rattle underneath,
      As if Cheapside[6] were mad.

    John Gilpin at his horse's side                                   45
      Seized fast the flowing mane,
    And up he got, in haste to ride,
      But soon came down again;

    For saddletree[7] scarce reach'd had he
      His journey to begin,                                           50
    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,                             55
      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!"                                      60

    "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!)                               65
      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,                                 70
    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,                        75
      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.                                     80

    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,                             85
      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,                                         90
    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                                  95
      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.                                         100

    The wind did blow, the cloak did fly,
      Like streamer long and gay,
    Till, loop and button failing both,
      At last it flew away.
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English Narrative Poems

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