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 Make us their Steps of Dignity purue,

And Ancient Honours would excite to new.

If any true Nobility remains,

And Virtue could by Blood poes the Veins.

Then let's no farther earch the World in vain,

To Ancient Rome, and lot Records of Spain;

Nations in Barb'rous Hydra-mixtures rai'd,

And only by their own too partial Flatt'ries prai'd.

Fabii, Cornellii, and the Bruti yield

To Caledonian Tribes the Ancient Field.

Cummin, Duff, Donald, Strathern, Hay, and Keith,

And Names would run Fame's Trumpet out of Breath.

Their old Armorial Honours till retain,

While Rome in modern Lines contends in vain.

Nor has the Country lent her partial Fame,

And from her later Towns betow'd the Name,

Not Towns the Names, but Names the Towns Command

And Families take Titles from the Land:

So Douglas, Mar and Southerland urvive,

And not from Towns, but Provinces derive.

Kingdoms of old, who tho the Claim's laid down,

Yet in th' Antiquity they keep the Crown.

The Blood of Princes in their Race we ee,

And modern Merit joins to old Nobility.

Blet are the Families that great in Blood,

Have thus their truet Honour undertood,