A love complaint in three double-quatrain stanzas "Inscribed to Miss M-r-y A. Kempst-n" and signed "Amor." The poet describes a lovely farm before declaring, "Then Phillis the fairest of fair, | No longer fly from the fond swain, | Whose doom, if not lov'd, is despair; | For nought can alleviate his pain." Sheep were becoming increasingly scarce in late pastoral ballads as the genre was becoming part of a less differentiated "nature poetry." At the period the poetry column of the Hibernian Magazine was becoming less regular, and consisted largely of short songs and lyrics — patriotic, social, and amorous. The poet was a regular contributor to the Hibernian Magazine in its declining days.
My groves and my woodlands are green,
Fair lilies my vallies adorn;
Each rose in her splendour is seen,
Nor wishes th' approach of the morn;
No frosts of the winter are here,
So killing to love and to flow'rs;
The ri'lets their heads they now rear,
And eglantine graces my bow'rs.
My brooks glide with murmur along,
Their streams are transparently clear;
While birds in an elegant song,
With music salute my glad ear;
My trees in their glory are seen,
Where branches the leaves now adorn,
O! colour a beautiful green;
Yet please not my bosom forlorn.
But ah! would sweet Phillis come here
And grace with her presence m bow'r;
What joys! and what transports sincere,
On a bosom so tender she'd pour.
Then Phillis the fairest of fair,
No longer fly from the fond swain,
Whose doom, if not lov'd, is despair;
For nought can alleviate his pain.