Oh, sadly have I sinned!
Then stuck his heels in his Mare’s side;
And, then, old Dumpling whinny’d!
Roger whipp’d, and Roger spurr’d,
Distilling drops of fear!
But while he spurr’d, still, still he heard
The wanton Dumpling at his rear.
’Twas dawn!—he look’d behind him, in the chase;
When, lo! the features of fat John,—
His beaver up, and pressing on,—