Original Poetry. 
tight to Hadrian Wanfon, our painter *, 
a citizen of Edinburgh: withing to re- 
gueft you, all and fingular, preferving to 
each his dignity, that the faid fhip of 
the above citizen, our fervant and 
painter, may be acknowledged as his 
property : and it, with its freight, failors, 
_merchandize, and all its apparel, with 
your grace and favour, and other kind 
offices ufually paid by friendly nations, 

ORIGINAL 

4s 
may on our account be honoured and re, 
fpetted. And whatever labour or favour 
to our faid. painter, (whom for many 
reafons we greatly favour, and with him 
well,) may be granted or indulged by 
you in this bufinefs, we fhall efteem as 
rendered to ourlelves. Given under our 
fignet, from our palace of Holyrood 
houfe, the zoth tlay of November, the 
ear of grace 1594. Jacospus R, 
sheen me 

of Leesa 
POETRY. 

On Mr. Pryt’s Scheme for taxing ARMORIAL 
BEARINGS, : 
SHADES of thofe heroes, whofe conflicting 
years 
Were {pent in knightheod’s toils and war’s 
alarms ; 
Whife deadly battle-axe, or pond’rous fpear, 
Maintain’d the honour of your blazon’d 
arms 5 
Who proudly bore th’ imperious creft aloft, 
While pard or lion glar’d upon the fhield, 
‘Trophies of high exploits, and granted oft 
By princely chieftain in the tented field; 
Rife, rife, fron) Acre’s or from Creffi’s plains, 
From tourneying barriers, or from ruined 
towers ! 
And while the moon in trembling luftre reigns, 
Range your grim cafques round Holsus0d’s 
fordid bowers. ‘ 
Dead to the feelings-of a noble foul, 
The creftlefs ftatefman trafficks in your 
fame 3 a 
Forbids your fons their blazon’d fhield unrol, 
And claims a tribute from the nobleft name, 
Degraded fons of Richard’s bold compeers, 
Whofe fathers, more than life, their ho- 
nour priz’d; 
Th’ infulted creft provok’d 
{pears, 
Nor left the recreant minion unchattiz’d: 
their vengeful 
O tributary honours! fallen how low! 
Difgrac’d, excis’d, dependant, tarnith’d, 
{corn’d ! 
In yain thy heroes, Poitiers, deck’d their brow, 
Thy trophies, 4zincour, their fhields adorn’d. 
The glorious banner which the warrior won, 
His race with purchas’d privilege difplays : 
Frown, Talbot, frown, upon thy vafial fon 
Who bears thy arms, the fief of abje&t days. 
Who now fhall boaft th’ efcutcheon’s ermin’d 
pride, 
The creft of Montacute, or Howard’s fhield? 
Norroy and Garter! throw your coats afide, 
For Pitt and Grenzille dare ye. to the field. 
* iu W. 

* ¢¢ Ad Hadrianum Wanfonium piétorem 
noftrum.” ‘This high favour could hardly be 
beftowed on a Aouje-painter. The name 
feems to be Van Son, of which there are 
patter painters of Antwerp, 
Tbe TeemitTes, cr WHITE ANTS, 
MANKIND, in general, are prone, 
Finding it may be done with eafe, 
To ftudy policy, as fhown 
Among the beavers, and the bees. 
Their vices, too, from infeéts earn’d, 
The flaterer got his trade from flugs $ 
War, from the wafps, no doubt, we learn’d, 
And blood-fucking, found out from bugs. 
The beavers teach the art of weiring, 
The arts of fifhing, diving, fteering; 
Alfo to build with mud for mortar, 
To make a trowel of a tail, 
Empty a pond without a pail, 
And keep our nofes above water. 
They even teach to dam a breach, 
And in their filence are great preachers, 
Teaching, without the aid of fpeech, 
Thofe who fhould be their teachers. 
One trick we learn’d without their teaching, 
The left-hand trick of over-reaching ; 
To hunt our tutors for their jackets, - 
Break up their tribes with guns uncivil, 
Send home their fkins in packs and packets, 
And blow their cities to the devil. 
As for the bees, we ufe them better, 
We {pare their lives, and take their honey, 
Copying their manners to the letter, 
Working all weathers to get money. 
Pitt fays—All hail! to induftry ! 
Let infants toil, let beauty fpin, 
Labour, my!loves, without repofe ! 
What you can dey I mean to try ; 
What you can earn, I mean to win, 
What you can bear, nobody knows. 
Work, fays the ftatefman, like a flaye, 
Work, fays the churchman, like an ant; 
The more you work, the more you’ll have, 
The more you have, the lefs you'll want. 
Work, fays the merchant, like a horfe, 
Work hard, youll never be the worfe; 
Work on like oxen, affes, camels, 
Habit will reconcile your trammels; 
Work on, brave boys, both foon and late, 
Tis all for commerce, church, and ftate ; 
Work from day’s dawn till fetting fun, 
If you ceafe working qwe’re undone, 
Thus, ever pointing to his neighbour, 
All th® examples of hard-labour, 
The 
