Seven anapestic quatrains, not signed. The lyric, which perhaps owes more to Rowe's Collin's Complaint than to Shenstone's Pastoral Ballad, his a gothic twist in its tail. The singer has been abandoned by her Corydon: "Yes; — Corydon stole all my joys, | And has left me thus lonely to mourn: | Hence I'll fly (for the day-light but cloys) | Where a sun-beam will never return." The Bristol and Bath Magazine apparently folded after publishing its third semi-annual volume in 1783. Its poetry column consisted largely of rebuses and similar trivia, along with quite a few pastoral ballads, original and reprinted.
Ye shepherds! (she said, and she sigh'd)
And ye nymphs that adorn the sweet scene,
Be kind to my kindlings (she cry'd)
As they frolickful play on your green.
For Phillis shall tend them no more,
No more their lov'd fleeces behold;
How my kids will their feeder deplore,
As without me they stray to the fold!
Adieu to the sweet summer days,
And the fleet flying minutes that's past,
When Corydon pip'd to my praise;
But these hours were too precious to last.
Yes; — Corydon stole all my joys,
And has left me thus lonely to mourn:
Hence I'll fly (for the day-light but cloys)
Where a sun-beam will never return.
And at eve the still arbour I'll court,
When each warbler is lull'd on the spray;
There, by moon-light, I'll often resort,
And list to sweet Philomel's lay.
Here, Shepherds! take care of my crook,
And come, pipe me some soothing sweet strain,
But soft as the murmuring brook
That wantonly winds o'er the plain.
But see! — yes, 'tis surely his shade!
Tho', shepherds, to you he's unseen:
I come, my sweet spirit! (she cry'd)
And frantick, flew over the green.