And now, ye youthful fair, I sing to you,
With pleasing smiles my useful labours view:
For you the silkworms fine-wrought webs display,
And lab'ring spin their little lives away,
For you bright gems with radiant colours glow,
Fair as the dies that paint the heav'nly bow,
For you the sea resigns its pearly store,
And earth unlocks her mines of treasur'd ore;
In vain yet Nature thus her gifts bestows,
Unless yourselves with art those gifts dispose.