Over the hill and over the dale,
And over the bourn to Dawlish--
Where gingerbread wives have a scanty sale
And gingerbread nuts are smallish. -------------
Rantipole Betty she ran down a hill
And kicked up her petticoats fairly;
Says I I'll be Jack if you will be Gill--
So she sat on the grass debonairly.
Here's somebody coming, here's somebody coming!
Says I 'tis the wind at a parley;
So without any fuss any hawing and humming
She lay on the grass debonairly.
Here's somebody here and here's somebody there!
Says I hold your tongue you young Gipsey;
So she held her tongue and lay plump and fair
And dead as a Venus tipsy.
O who wouldn't hie to Dawlish fair,
O who wouldn't stop in a Meadow,
O who would not rumple the daisies there
And make the wild fern for a bed do!
'This scrap occurs in a letter to James Rice, written from Teignmouth on the 25th of March, 1818, and published by Lord Houghton in the first volume of the Life, Letters &c. (1848). Keats closes his letter with, "I went yesterday to Dawlish fair," and this quatrain. The hilly walk to Dawlish is recorded with topographical accuracy. Whether the rest is observation (as is more probable) mere rhyme, I cannot say.'
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