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)

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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.

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