Here Towns, and Spires, and Hills o'er Hills extend;
There shady Groves, and Lawns, the Prospect end.
Through lavish Ornaments, the Fabrick shines
With wild Festoons of Fruits, and clust'ring Vines:
Luxuriant Decorations fill each Space, }
And vast Incumbrances, void of Rules or Grace;
Without Coherence, crowded in each Place.
Should you require a little rising Pile,
The Parts appropriate to the fertile Soil:
Where Neatness, Order, and Proportion join;