For scenes that were rustic and quiet;
I opened the throttle; we ate up the miles
(A truly exhilarant diet);
Till sharply, as over a common we went,
Gorse-clad (or it may have been heather),
The engine stopped short with a tactful intent
To leave the young couple together.
'Twas instinct (I take it) directing my course
That named as my first occupation
A fruitless endeavour to track to its source