A Contemplation on Basset's downhill by the most Sacred adorer of the Muses Mrs. A. K.  

IF that exact Appelles now did live.  
And would a picture of Elysium give;  
He might pourtrai'ct the prospect which this Hill  
Doth show; & make the eye commaud at will.  
here's many a shire whose pleasauntness for sight  
Doth yield to the Spectators great delight.  
there's a large field guilded with Ceres' gold;  
Here a green mead doth many Heifers hold:  
there's pasture grown with verdant grass, whose store,  
Of Argent-sheep shows th'owner is not poor.  
Here springs do intricate Meanders make  
Excelling far Oblivion's Lethe Lake.  
There woods and Coppises harbour as many  
And sweet melodious Choristers, as any  
Elysium yields; whose Philomel'an lates  
Merit the highest of the Lyrick's praise  
here's Flor a decked with robes of Or, and azure,  
Fragrently smelling yeild's two senses pleasure.  
Hence Zephyrus doth breathe his gentle gales  
Cool on the Hills, and sweet throughout the Vales  
How happy are they that in this Climate dwell?  
Alas! they can't their own sweet welfare tell;  
Scarce I myself whilst I am here do know it  
Till I see its Antithesis to show it.  
Here are no smoking streets, nor howling cries,  
Deafening the earcs, nor blinding of the eyes;  
No noisome smells t' infect, and choacke the air,  
Breeding diseases envious to the fair.  
Deceit is here exiled from Flesh, and blood:  
(Strife only reigns, for all strive to be good.)  
With Will hi● verse I here will make an end  
And as the Crab doth always backward bend  
So, though from this sweet place I go away  
My loyal heart will in this Climate stay.  
Thus heartless, doth my worthless body rest  
Whilst my heart liveth with the ever blessed.