So may you often see the studious Youth
Begin the long, laborious Search for TRUTH;
How slow his Progress, but how great his Pain!
How many mazy Problems vex his Brain!
Before he o'er the Hills of  rise,
Where, far from vulgar Sight, the Goddess lies:
Yet, there arriv'd, he ends the happy Chace;
Reflects, with Pleasure, on his glorious Race;
Sees the bright Nymph so many Charms display,
As crown the Labours of the lengthen'd Way.