Make us their Steps of Dignity purſue,
And Ancient Honours would excite to new.
If any true Nobility remains,
And Virtue could by Blood poſſeſs the Veins.
Then let's no farther ſearch the World in vain,
To Ancient Rome, and loſt Records of Spain;
Nations in Barb'rous Hydra-mixtures raiſ'd,
And only by their own too partial Flatt'ries praiſ'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 ſtill retain,
While Rome in modern Lines contends in vain.
Nor has the Country lent her partial Fame,
And from her later Towns beſtow'd the Name,
Not Towns the Names, but Names the Towns Command
And Families take Titles from the Land:
So Douglaſs, Mar and Southerland ſurvive,
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 ſee,
And modern Merit joins to old Nobility.
Bleſt are the Families that great in Blood,
