The gothic entrance into Rollingate;
Resign’d the whip to John’s triumphant care,
And gave a “blessing[191]” o’er the usual fare:
“Thank ye, my lord:” (repeated John, and loud)—
And thus: “Good bye, yer honor,” then, more proud
Than e’er, resumes his place, commands the steed;
Th’ entangled whip dis’tangled and then freed
Forth in the air assumes th’ impressive scream:
“Now talk to me, if you like, about your steam!—
It’s all a myth: God knows it’s all a dream.”