This is the fourth item from Robert Dymond’s book: “Things New and Old Concerning the Parish of Widecombe-in-the-Moor and its Neighbourhood” (1876).
DART AND WEBBURN
DART.
Wild Webburn ! wild Webburn ! why rush on so fast?
Your speed is so reckless, it never can last ;
Why can’t you glide gently around the rough stones?
They’ll not move an hair’s-breadth for all your loud moans.
Besides, at the angle which mortals call “ right,”
Head-foremost you charge me, I shrink with affright ;
The primroses, open-ey’d, there on the brink,
Are watching us, quite at a loss what to think.
WEBBURN.
Indeed, Mrs. Dart, I must own it is true,
But then, pray consider, I’m younger than you;
And really, till here in this dingle we met,
A lesson in manners I never did get.
Henceforth, arm-in-arm, we’ll move on, if you please,
And just at your pace, may be quite at your ease ;
But ere we arrive at Holne Chase, I foresee,
The echoes will hear you far louder than me.