JOHN GILPIN poked his clever wife, And slightly smiled to find That though on peril she was bent, She had a careful mind. The morning came; a cab was sought: The proper time allow'd To reach the station door; but lo! Before it stood a crowd. For half an hour they there were stay'd, And when they did get in-- "No train! a hoax!" cried clerks, agog To swear through thick and thin. "Yea!" went the throats; stamp went the heels Were never folks so mad, The disappointment dire beneath; All cried "it was too bad!" JOHN GILPIN home would fain have hied, But he must needs remain, Commanded by his willful bride, And take the usual train. 'T was long before our passengers Another train could find, When--stop! one ticket for the fares Was lost or left behind! "Good lack!" quoth JOHN, "yet try it on." "'T won't do," the Guard replies; And bearing wife and babes on board, The train without him flies. Now see him in a second train, Behind the iron steed, Borne on, slap dash-for life or bones With small concern or heed. Away went GILPIN, neck or naught, Exclaiming, "Dash my wig! Oh, here's a game! oh, here's a go! A running such a rig!" A signal, hark!--the whistle screamed-- Smash! went the windows all: "An accident!" cried out each one, As loud as he could bawl. Away went GILPIN, never mind-- His brain seemed spinning round; Thought he, "This speed a killing pace Will prove, I'll bet a pound !" And still, as stations they drew near, The whistle shrilly blew, And in a trice, past signal-men, The train like lightning flew. Thus, all through merry Killbury, Without a stop shot they; But paused, to 'scape a second smash, At Dedmanton so gay. At Dedmanton his loving wife, On platform waiting, spied Her tender husband, striving much To let himself outside. "Hallo! JOHN GILPIN, here we are-- Come out!" they all did cry; "To death with waiting we are tired!" "Guard!" shouted GILPIN, "Hi!" But no--the train was not a bit Arranged to tarry there, For why?--because 't was an Express, And did dispatches bear. So, in a second, off it flew Again, and dashed along, As if the deuce't were going to, With motive impulse strong. Away went GILPIN, on the breath Of puffing steam, until They came unto their journey's end, Where they at last stood still And then--best thing that he could do-- He book'd himself for Town; They stopped at every station up, Till he again got down. Says GILPIN, "Sing, Long live the QUEEN, And eke long life to me; And ere I'll trust that Line again, Myself I blest will see!" ELEGY. WRITTEN IN A RAIL WAY STATION. PUNCH. The Station clock proclaims the close of day; The hard-worked clerks drop gladly off to tea; The last train starts upon its dangerous way, And leaves the place to darkness and to me.