tis eig,

    the sky is blue,

    t in t air,

    s from nobody knows where;

    ,

    halloo! halloo! a long halloo!

    --le t your door,

    means tle, Betty Foy?

    y fret?

    And w

    boy?

    Beneat s,

    till sired, let Betty Foy

    it and stirrup ?ddle-faddle;

    But w upon a saddle

    boy?

    ts out of bed;

    Good Betty! put him down again;

    you,

    But, Betty! w o do

    itirrup, saddle, or h rein?

    tis very idle,

    Betime of night;

    t a mot one,

    But w you have done,

    Oty s.

    But Bettys bent on ent,

    For her good neighbour, Susan Gale,

    Old Susan, she who dwells alone,

    Is sick, and makes a piteous moan,

    As if her very life would fail.

    t a hin a mile.

    No o ress:

    Old Susan lies a bed in pain,

    And sorely puzzled are twain,

    For w s guess.

    And Bettys  the wood,

    h abide,

    A ant vale;

    to help poor Susan Gale,

    must be done? ide?

    And Betty from tched

    is mild and good,

    her he be in joy or pain,

    Feeding at he lane,

    Or bringing faggots from the wood.

    And ravelling trim,

    And by t, Betty Foy

    ,

    t,

    boy.

    And  post  delay

    Across ts in the dale,

    And by the down,

    to bring a doctor from town,

    Or she will die, old Susan Gale.

    t or spur,

    there is no need of whip or wand,

    For Johnny has his holly-bough,

    And h a hurly-burly now

    he green bough in his hand.

    And Betty oer and oer old

    t delight,

    Bot to folloo shun,

    do, and o leave undone,

    urn to left, and o right.

    And Bettys most especial charge,

    as, quot;Jo you

    quot;Come op at all,

    quot;Come eer befal,

    quot;My Jo;

    to this did Johnny answer make,

    Both his hand,

    And proudly soo,

    And t a few,

    ty and.

    And no Jo going,

    ttys in a mighty ?urry,

    Sly pats the ponys side,

    On  ride,

    And seems no longer in a hurry.

    But whe pony moved his legs,

    O boy!

    For joy  he bridle,

    For joy his head and heels are idle,

    hes idle all for very joy.

    And whe pony moves his legs,

    In Jo-hand you may see,

    tionless and dead;

    t shines above his head

    Is not more still and mute than he.

    it was so full of glee,

    t till full ?fty yards were gone,

    e forgot his holly whip,

    And all his skill in horsemanship,

    Oh! happy, happy, happy John.

    And Bettys standing at the door,

    And Bettys face h joy oer?ows,

    Proud of herself, and proud of him,

    Sravelling trim;

    ly her Johnny goes.

    t boy,

    sends to Bettys !

    t--urns right,

    Scill  of sight,

    And Betty  t.

    Burr, burr--now Johey burr,

    As loud as any mill, or near it,

    Meek as a lamb the pony moves,

    And Johe noise he loves,

    And Betty listens, glad to .

    Away so Susan Gale:

    And Joune,

    ts , ts curr,

    And Johey burr, burr, burr,

    And on he moon.

    eed and  well agree,

    For of theres a rumour,

    t should he lose his eyes and ears,

    And shousand years,

    of humour.

    But t thinks!

    And whinks his pace is slack;

    Nohough he knows poor Johnny well,

    Yet for  tell

    upon his back.

    So t lanes they go,

    And far into t dale,

    And by the down,

    to bring a doctor from town,

    to comfort poor old Susan Gale.

    And Betty, no Susans side,

    Is in tory,

    comfort Johnny soon will bring,

    it diverting thing,

    Of Jo and Johnnys glory.

    And Bettys still at Susans side:

    By time s quite so ?urried;

    Demure e

    Ss, as if in Susans fate

    her life and soul were buried.

    But Betty, poor good woman! she,

    You plainly in ,

    Could lend out of t moments store

    Five years of happiness or more,

    to any t mig.

    But yet I guess t nohen

    itty all  so well,

    And to turns her ears,

    And thence full many a sound she hears,

    o Susan  tell.

    Poor Susan moans, poor Susan groans,

    quot;As sure as t;

    Cries Betty, quot;hell be back again;

    quot;tis almost ten,

    quot;t;

    Poor Susan moans, poor Susan groans,

    the clock gives warning for eleven;

    tis on troke--quot;If Jo;

    Quotty quot;he will soon be here,

    quot;As sure as t;

    troke of twelve,

    And Jo yet in sight,

    tty sees,

    But Betty is not quite at ease;

    And Susan .

    And Betty, half an hour ago,

    On Joions cast;

    quot;A little idle sauntering t;

    itring,

    But no time is gone and past.

    And Bettys drooping at t,

    t ime all past and gone,

    quot; be e?

    quot;tor ,

    quot;Susan! t;

    And Susans growing worse and worse,

    And Bettys in a sad quandary;

    And to say

    If s go or s stay:

    --Shes in a sad quandary.

    troke of one;

    But neitor nor his guide

    Appear along t road,

    ther horse nor man abroad,

    And Bettys still at Susans side.

    And Susan so fear

    Of sad misc a few,

    t Johnny may perhaps be drownd,

    Or lost perhaps, and never found;

    both for ever rue.

    S of this

    it;God forbid it srue!quot;

    At t  Susan said

    Cried Betty, rising from the bed,

    quot;Susan, Id gladly stay h you.

    quot;I must be gone, I must away,

    quot;Consider, Jo half-wise;

    quot;Susan,  take care of him,

    quot;If  in life or limbquot;--

    quot;O; poor Susan cries.

    quot; can I do?quot; says Betty, going,

    quot; can I do to ease your pain?

    quot;Good Susan tell me, and Ill stay;

    quot;I fear youre in a dreadful way,

    quot;But I s;

    quot;Good Betty go, good Betty go,

    quot;t can ease my pain.quot;

    t h a prayer

    t God poor Susans life would spare,

    till she comes back again.

    So, t lane she goes,

    And far into t dale;

    And how she ran, and how she walked,

    And all t to alked,

    ould surely be a tedious tale.

    In high and low, above, below,

    In great and small, in round and square,

    In tree and tower was Johnny seen,

    In bush and brake, in black and green,

    twas Johnny, Johnny, every where.

    S ts in the dale,

    And no torments her sore,

    Johnny perhaps his horse forsook,

    to  ts in the brook,

    And never will be heard of more.

    And now she down,

    Alone amid a prospect wide;

    ther Johnny nor his horse,

    Among the gorse;

    tor nor his guide.

    quot;Os! w is become of him?

    quot;Pero an oak,

    quot;ay till he is dead;

    quot;Or sadly he has been misled,

    quot;And joined the wandering gypsey-folk.

    quot;Or  wicked ponys carried

    quot;to the goblins hall,

    quot;Or in tle hes pursuing,

    quot;Among ts, his own undoing;

    quot;Or playing erfall.quot;

    At poor old Susan then she railed,

    o town ss away;

    quot;If Susan  been so ill,

    quot;Alas! I sill,

    quot;My Joill my dying day.quot;

    Poor Betty! in temper,

    tors self would hardly spare,

    Unalked and wild,

    Even tle t mild,

    the pony had his share.

    And noo town,

    And to tors door she hies;

    tis silence all on every side;

    toown so wide,

    Is silent as the skies.

    And noors door,

    Ss the knocker, rap, rap, rap,

    tor at t shews,

    peep and doze;

    And one -cap.

    quot;Oor! Doctor! w;

    quot;Im  ist you  ;

    quot;Oty Foy,

    quot;And I  my poor dear boy,

    quot;You know en see;

    quot; so ;

    quot;take ; said

    tor, looking somew grim,

    quot;, woman! s;

    And, grumbling,  back to bed.

    quot;O woe is me! O woe is me!

    quot;here will I die; here will I die;

    quot;I t to ?nd my Johnny here,

    quot;But her far nor near,

    quot;O a c;

    Sops, sands, s,

    o turn s tell.

    Poor Betty! it would ease her pain

    If s to knock again;

    --trikes three--a dismal knell!

    town she hies,

    No wonder if her senses fail,

    teous news so muc shockd her,

    Se forgot to send tor,

    to comfort poor old Susan Gale.

    And now she down,

    And she can see a mile of road,

    quot;O three-score;

    quot;Suc as this was neer before,

    quot;t a single soul abroad.quot;

    Sens, but s hear

    t of he voice of man;

    treams est sound are ?owing,

    t  growing,

    You  now if eer you can.

    ts t

    Are sing to eacill:

    Fond lovers, yet not quite hob nob,

    t tremulous sob,

    t eco hill.

    Poor Betty now  all hope,

    s are bent on deadly sin;

    A green-grown pond s has passd,

    And from t,

    Lest sherein.

    And now ss her down and weeps;

    Sucears she never shed before;

    quot;O joy!

    quot;O boy!

    quot;And ;

    A t is come into her head;

    quot;the pony he is mild and good,

    quot;And we have always used him well;

    quot;Perhe dell,

    quot;And carried Joo t;

    then up she springs as if on wings;

    Shinks no more of deadly sin;

    If Betty ?fty ponds should see,

    t of all s would be,

    to drown herein.

    O I migell

    Johnny and his horse are doing!

    time,

    O it into rhyme,

    A most deligale pursuing!

    Per!

    h roam

    t are,

    to lay ar,

    And in  bring it home.

    Perurned ,

    o ail,

    And still and mute, in ,

    All like a silent ,

    ravels on along the vale.

    And now, pering sheep,

    A ?erce and dreadful er he!

    Yon valley, ts so trim and green,

    In ?ve montime, should he be seen,

    A desart wilderness will be.

    Perh head and heels on ?re,

    And like the very soul of evil,

    hes galloping away, away,

    And so hell gallop on for aye,

    t dread the devil.

    I to the muses have been bound,

    teen years, by strong indentures;

    Ole muses! let me tell

    But  to him befel,

    For sure  range adventures.

    Ole muses! is this kind?

    repel?

    her aid bereave me?

    And can ye thus unfriended leave me?

    Ye muses! whom I love so well.

    , near terfall,

    h headlong force,

    Beneat shining fair,

    As careless as if nothing were,

    Sits upright on a feeding horse?

    Unto s feeding free,

    o give;

    Of moon or stars akes no heed;

    Of such we in romances read,

    --tis Johnny! Johnny! as I live.

    And ts too.

    ty Foy?

    Sain her fears;

    ter-fall she hears,

    And cannot ?nd  boy.

    Your ponys  in gold,

    terrors, Betty Foy!

    Srees,

    And now, all full in view, she sees

    boy.

    And Betty sees too:

    and you tty Foy?

    It is no goblin, tis no g,

    tis ,

    boy.

    She looks again--her arms are up--

    S move for joy;

    Ss as orrents force,

    S urned the horse,

    And fast s boy.

    And Johnny burrs and laughs aloud,

    her in cunning or in joy,

    I cannot tell; but while he laughs,

    Betty a drunken pleasure quaffs,

    to  boy.

    And noail,

    And nohe ponys head,

    On t side nohis,

    And almost sti?ed h her bliss,

    A feears does Betty shed.

    She kisses oer and oer again,

    boy,

    Shere,

    She is uneasy every where;

    h joy.

    Ss the pony, where or when

    S, ty Foy!

    ttle pony glad may be,

    But han she,

    You hardly can perceive his joy.

    quot;Oor;

    quot;Youve done your best, and t is all.quot;

    Sook this was said,

    And gently turned the ponys head

    From ter-fall.

    By tars  gone,

    tting on the hill,

    So pale you scarcely looked at her:

    ttle birds began to stir,

    t tongues ill.

    tty, and her boy,

    ind slohe woody dale:

    And wimes abroad,

    t eep rough road?

    , but old Susan Gale?

    Long Susan lay deep lost in t,

    And many dreadful fears beset her,

    Both for her messenger and nurse;

    And as her mind grew worse and worse,

    greter.

    Surned, sossd herself in bed,

    On all sides doubts and terrors met her;

    Point after point did she discuss;

    And hus,

    ill greter.

    quot;Alas! hem?

    quot;these fears can never be endured,

    quot;Ill to t;--the word scarce said,

    Did Susan rise up from her bed,

    As if by magic cured.

    Away ss up hill and down,

    And to t length is come,

    Ss a greeting;

    O is a merry meeting,

    As ever was in Cendom.

    t,

    ravellers homeward wend;

    ted all night long,

    And he owls began my song,

    And  end.

    For wravelling home,

    Cried Betty, quot;tell us Johnny, do,

    quot; you have been,

    quot; you  you have seen,

    quot;And Joell us true.quot;

    Now Jo long had heard

    tuneful concert strive;

    No doubt too he moon had seen;

    For in t he had been

    From eigill ?ve.

    And to Bettys question, he

    Made ansraveller bold,

    (o you,)

    quot;to-wo-whoo,

    quot;And t;

    --thus answered Johnny in his glory,

    And t ory.