And the mud flies about, as the wheels fly around.
Bump! bump! over the stones—slosh! slosh! over the wood;
Whack! whack! goeth each whip—quick! quick! quicker who could?
And clattering—spattering—onward they go:
"Hark forward! hark forward! for Surrey halloo!"
Now there's no time to wait; and see! merciless fate!
At the bridge a curst wagon doth block up the gate.
'Tis ruin to stay!—but one moment's delay,
And the Captain he falls to the Bailiff a prey.
But quickly the wight from the cab doth alight,