And now the turnpike-gates again
Flew open in short space;
The toll-man thinking, as before,
That Gilpin rode a race.
And so he did, and won it too,
For he got first to town;
Nor stopped till where he had got up,
He did again get down.
Now let us sing, Long live the King.
And Gilpin, long live he;
And when he next doth ride abroad,
May I be there to see.
