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 Great ANN'S Illutrious Scepter 'tis he ways,

And while he rules, Envy her elf obeys;

Malice may well, and wild Dilike appear,

But all their Spleen ferments into dipair:

Grovling they ly in Grief and Dicontent,

Cruht by the Chariot Wheels of Government.

So Devils chaind, their Hate of Heaven expres,

But as their Rage grows great, their Power grows les.

Campbells the modern Glory of this Ile,

Their doubling Fame's encrea't in great Argile;

Born to be great, to Noblet Blood ally'd,

He keeps the Honour, and abates the Pride,

For Action fitted, to the Wars inclin'd,

True Caledonian Courage wells his Mind;

Fitted his Country's Character to raie,

And by great Actions hand along her Praie.

Of ancient Stock, and long forgotten Race,

Nature has tamp'd their Glories in his Face.

The trong Impres of ev'ry manly Line

In Characters of Native Honour hine,

An Index of the brighter Soul within.

A Race to Caledonia always dear,

And on whoe Blood her Liberties appear.

A Race to Honour, and their Countrey true,

They furnih'd Funds of Old, he heaps up tores of New.