It was kindly meant of my cousin Giles, to write and invite me down,
Tho' as yet all I've seen of a pastoral life only makes one more partial to town.
At first I thought I was really come down into all sorts of rural bliss,
For Porkington Place, with its cows and its pigs, and its poultry, looks not much amiss;
There's something about a dairy farm, with its different kinds of live stock,
That puts one in mind of Paradise, and Adam and his innocent flock;
But somehow the good old Elysium fields have not been well handed down,
And as yet I have found no fields to prefer to dear Leicester Fields up in town.
To be sure it is pleasant to walk in the meads, and so I should like for miles,
If it wasn't for clodpoles of carpenters that put up such crooked stiles;