What labour forges, patient art refines,
Till bright as dazz'ling day metallic beauty shines.
Thy swords, elastic, arm our hero's hands;
Thy musquets thunder in remotest lands;
Thy sparkling buttons distant courts emblaze;
Thy polish'd steel emits the diamond's rays;
Paper, beneath thy magic hand assumes
A mirror brightness, and with beauty blooms.
With each Etruscan grace thy vases shine,
And proud Japan's fam'd varnish yields to thine.