A pastoral ballad in eight anapestic quatrains signed "J. Shadgett, Biggleswade, March 10, 1764." Choe has proven most unkind to poor Strephon, who resolves to pass the remainder of his days in unhappy solitude: "Ye banquets of pleasure adieu! | No more will I taste of your cheer; | But in this deplorable hue | To the shades of oblivion will steer." Shadgett contributed several poems to the British Magazine.
How oft have I curst in my mind
My wretched deplorable state;
No ease nor contentment I find,
For Chloe's still to me ingrate.
She frowning refuses to hear
The humble request of her swain;
My hope's intercepted with fear,
My kindnesses meet with disdain.
What scenes of unlimited woe
Her cruelty pours on my head!
What pains I for her undergo,
When sorrows encompass my bed!
Each shepherd that pipes on the plain
His Phillis can please and delight;
Attentive she hears his soft strain;
But Chloe poor Strephon does slight.
My flame it was ardent and just;
My bosom with tenderness glow'd;
My heart the sincerest, I trust,
That e'er was on mortal bestow'd.
But since that my Chloe's unkind,
Adieu to the charms of the fair;
Some place I'll endeavour to find,
To breathe out my sorrow and care.
No more will I frolic and rant,
But pensive I'll be as the dove;
No more shall the music enchant
My soul with the raptures of love.
Ye banquets of pleasure adieu!
No more will I taste of your cheer;
But in this deplorable hue
To the shades of oblivion will steer.