A pastoral ballad signed "Q" that over the course of nine anapestic stanzas touches most of the chords associated with the genre: "Near the brook, at the close of the day, | How grateful was Philomel's strain! | Alone on the next hawthorn spray, | How sweet did the blackbirds complain!"
How happy was Corydon's lot,
How envy'd by every swain!
When Philis enliven'd his cot,
And listen'd all kind to his strain!
How sweetly the hours stole away,
While love did the moments beguile!
How light were the cares of the day,
Rewarded by Philida's smile!
How bless'd in the morn have I been,
When Phoebus just peep'd o'er the hill!
To see her advance o'er the green,
And stop at the murmuring rill.
With raptures I've hasted to meet,
And handed across the dear maid:
Then led her to some pleasant seat,
Where woodbines and jessamines shade.
The lambkins all careless at play,
The skies and all nature serene:
The lark, lovely herald of day,
Enliven'd and welcom'd the scene.
Remote from the sun-beams at noon,
On some mossy bank in the vale;
How oft did we pastorals tune?
While echo repeated the tale.
Near the brook, at the close of the day,
How grateful was Philomel's strain!
Alone on the next hawthorn spray,
How sweet did the blackbirds complain!
How sweet were the eglantine bow'rs,
How sweet were the shades of the grove!
How sweet to reflect on the hours,
When Phillis requited my love!
But, alas, now how sadden'd the view,
How dreary the once pleasant plain!
My sheep and my lambkins adieu,
For Phillis has slighted her swain.