Mr Giles

A Parody on “Young Lochinvar”

Oh, young Mr Giles is come out of the west,
Through all the wide country his wig was the best;
And save a good peck loaf, he victuals had none,
He relished it much, tho’ he ate it alone.
So an-hung’red he felt as he leapt over stiles,
Sure never was fellow, long young Mr Giles.

He stopped not for wind, and he staid not for rain,
He pac’d through each field, and he ran through each lane,
But, ere he arrived at the sign of the cow,
Miss Tubb had consented, she didn’t know how,
To accept for her husband the tinker from Miles,
Instead of her faithful swain, young Mr Giles.

So boldly he entered the taproom’s small door,
Amongst Tom Mile’s cousins, & brother all four;
Then spoke the bride’s father, his cap in his hand,
(For the bridegroom appeared to be quite at a stand),
“Oh come ye to cause ’monst us quarrels & broils¹
Or to dance at our wedding oh young Mr Giles?”

“I once wooed your daughter, you deaf to my suit,
Kick’d & cuffed me about as you would any brute,
And now I am come with this false love of mine,
To drink off one tankard of ale or of wine,
There are damsels at Brentford who greet me with smiles,
And who’d gladly be bride to the young Mr Giles.”

The fair took the goblet and drank a good sup,
The youth quaffed the rest, and then threw down the cup.
She look’d up to laugh, and she look’d down to cry
With a grin on her lips, and a tear in her eye.
“Without asking consent of the bridegroom Tom Miles —
Let us dance a brisk jig, love,” said young Mr Giles.

So stately her form, and so rosy her face,
That ne’er in that tap-room was seen so much grace;
Her father grew angry, her mother did frown,
While the bridegroom he sat himself tranquilly down;
And the bride maidens muttered, “That tinker from Miles
Is as ugly as sin alongside Mr Giles.”

The squeeze of her hand, and one word in her ear,
As they drew near the door, and call’d loudly for beer;
Then quickly began the fair lady to run,
“We have conquer’d,” said Giles, “we are safe, she is won,
We are gone with full speed, over gates, over stiles;
They’ll come swift that o’er take us,” said young Mr Giles.

There was racing ’mongst friends of the bridegroom elect;
The host, and bride’s father went out sprucely deck’d:
There was cursing & swearing on famed Turnham Green,
But the lost bride of Tommy Miles never was seen.
So courageous in love, and successful in smiles,
There never was youth like the young Mr Giles —