The Child of Elle he fought so well And nowe the baron and all his men Ah, what may lady Emmeline doe? Her lover he put his horne to his mouth, And soone he sawe his owne merry men "Nowe hold thy hand, thou bold baron, Thy daughter I have dearly loved, "O give consent shee may be mine, "My mother she was an earl's daughter, Fair Emmeline sigh'd, fair Emmeline wept, At length she sprang upon her knee, "Pardon, my lorde and father deare, "Oft have you call'd your Emmeline O! let not, then, your harsh resolves The baron he stroakt his dark-brown cheeke, And turned his head asyde, To wipe away the starting teare, He proudely strave to hyde. In deep revolving thought he stoode, Then raised fair Emmeline from the grounde, With many a fond embrace. "Here, take her, Child of Elle," he sayd, "Thy father once mine honour wrong'd, In fondness for thy bride: "And as thou love her, and hold her deare, And now my blessing wend wi' thee! OLD BALLAD. JOHN GILPIN, JOHN GILPIN was a citizen Of credit and renown, John Gilpin's spouse said to her dear- "To-morrow is our wedding day, "My sister and my sister's child, He soon replied "I do admire Of womankind but one, "I am a linen-draper bold, As all the world doth know, Quoth Mrs. Gilpin "That's well said; Which is both bright and clear." John Gilpin kiss'd his loving wife, That though on pleasure she was bent, The morning came, the chaise was brought, To drive up to the door, lest all Should say that she was proud. So three doors off the chaise was stay'd, 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 For saddle-tree scarce reach'd had he, When turning round his head he saw So down he came, for loss of time "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 Now Mistress Gilpin, careful soul, Each bottle had a curling ear, Then over all, that he might be His long red cloak well brush'd and neat Now see him mounted once again Full slowly pacing o'er the stones But finding soon a smoother road So, "Fair and softly," John he cried, 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. |