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[Nb: some text pulled from an alternate, printed copy, T The Lady's Magazine, Jan 1778 ] Whilst the fair Daughters to this genial Play- [Sha]ll serve their country in a gentler way; [If] doom'd as humble spinster to grow old [Sh]all spin your envy'd fleeces into Gold - [If] wedded shall with Hymen's magic chain [Fro]m foreign climes our Artisans restrain. [Fro]m foreign climes recall the wandering Far [Wi]th hearts of Oak supply the waste of war, [An]d with sons sons enrich over future store [Ti]ll time and this great Empire be no more. [Be]ll rings)

[Bu]t lo the laughing muse comes tripping on [An]d by her heralds warns me to be gone, [Yet] hence be this great moral understood [Th]at private virtue leads to Public good