class="c14">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 another road
Beneath his well-shod feet,
The snorting boast 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 has 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,