THE ROYAL DUBLIN SOCIETY 41 



From her fair Bosom those true Riches spring. 



That Happiness, or Fame to mortals bring. 



By these are nourished, and from these have Birth 



The living Statues of the Gods, on Earth. 



And Heaifn th' Inscription gives and thus we read ; 



" To bless Mankind is to be bless'd indeed." 



Hail Industry ! Parent of Joy and Health, 



Great source of Commerce, Splendour, Pow'r, and Wealth. 



At thy approach, the Graces, newly born, 



Revisit Earth, and Plenty fills her Horn ; 



Through Virtues 9 Banks her stream fair Freedom pours ; 



And gay Delight points to the smiling Hours. 



Amidst them sparkling Mirth asserts a Place, 



And all the beauteous Family of Peace. 



Around in pairs, the blooming Virgins flock : 



One brings the Flax, and one adjusts the Rock. 



Heaven guides the Spindle, as it downward tends; 



And on the Thread a Nation's fate depends. 



Begin, ye Nymphs, your glorious Task begin, 



The Happiness of Crowds unborn to spin. 



To future Times so shall Hibernia tell, 



In virtue how her daughters did excel. 



How their soft Hands confessed the wond'rous Pow'r 



From rotten weeds to deck the Nuptial Bow'r ; 



To grace the Warrior's Tent ; the Board of Kings ; 



And add to Britain 9 s Naval Thunder wings ; 



Nay more, transmit to each succeeding age 



The works of Boyle, and Milton 9 s sacred Page. 



Fir*d with the Prospect, the glad Realm prepares 

 To these pursuits to bend her future Cares, 

 But first she bids, like a repentant son, 

 Her old companions from her sight be gone ; 

 Once tempting Sirens, but whom now she knows 

 Sad authors of her Follies, and her Woes ; 

 A loitering Brood, that long disgraced her Door, 

 The ground encumbered, and consumed her store. 

 Fond Superstition, who perversely pays 

 Heaven back its gifts, instead of manly Praise, 

 Leads on, but slowly leads, the lazy Train, 

 Averse to Toil, yet grasping still at gain. 



