Phoebe drest like beauty's queen,
Jellicoe in faint pea-green,
Sitting all beneath a grot,
Where the little lambkins trot.
 
Maidens dancing, lovers a-sporting,
All the country folk a-courting,
Susan, Johnny, Bob, and Joe,
Lightly tripping on a row.
 
Happy people, who can be
In happiness compar'd with ye?
The pilgrim with his crook and hat
Sees your happiness complete.