SCOTLANDS THANKS-GIVING FOR HER
ARMIES safe, joyfull, and prosperous return from ENGLAND.
BLest be the living Lord, who reigns above,
To
Scotland, who hath shown such signes of love:
And maugre ravenous
Rome, and spitefull
Spaine,
Kept us abroad, and brought us safe again
Unto our native soil, with Songs of joy,
Foyling our Foes, who would us all destroy.
Who would have look'd when first we march'd ov'r
Tweid,
So long, and well, in
England we should speed,
Curbing all those did threat us to withstand,
And feeding on the best fruits of their Land,
Having Christs Word, and Sacraments in peace,
And puritie, in Superstitions Place,
Returning with such credit, joy, and fame,
And blessings great, which no Pen can proclaim.
Seeing our Princes sweet and gracious face,
And feasting with contentment; with his Grace,
Foes gnasht their teeth, so blest a day to see,
When
Scot's (who Traitors were proclaim'd to be)
Now counted are best Subjects, by our King,
Which joyes our hearts above all earthly thing.
Blest
August, joyfullest Moneth in all the yeer,
In thee we march'd ov'r
Tyne, and did retire,
With joyfull hearts, and songs of endlesse praise
To GOD, who hath us blest, in all our wayes;
Gods
Israel no moe marvellous favours fand,
Nor we brave
Scots, into a strangers Land,
They marvels great did find from God most high,
But all were worlds of wonders, we did see.
Ah wretched vipers, to your native soil,
Who would have wished your Countries finall foil,
Who can paint out your woes, sin, shame, and scorn,
By
God, your
King, and all true
Scots, forlorn.
Rome hang thy head, thy hellish plots are gone,
And bailfull Bishops your bad change bemone,
Your dririe train no help from
Laud can find,
And by Saint
Peters Chair, is left behind,
Newcastle, Durhame, and you Towns by
Ties
Keep what you heard from us, and saw with eyes;
Return not to your wonted dregs of
Rome,
Lest you be curs'd, and dolefull be your doom,
And one day we to your just condemnation
Bear witnesse of your breach of
Protestation.
Lord blesse our wise, and valiant
Generall,
Our Nobles, Cavaliers, and Souldiers all,
Who for Christs cause, and their deare Countries good,
Devoted honours, life, name, means, and blood.
Fame (times eternall Herald) shall proclaim
To Ages all, your never dying Name.
Curs'd be those hellish spirits (who hence shall move)
Sturs us among, to break the bonds of Love:
England farewell,
Lord plant his truth in thee,
That thou with us, in Peace and Puritie;
May worship
God, and hate that
Man of Sin,
Whose brood too long hath
Britaine breath'd within:
Welcome sweet
Scotland, who is like to thee?
Pay
God thy vows, so blest thou still shall be.
Lord blesse our good, our great, and gracious
King,
That long in these
Three Kingdoms, he may reign:
And that his seed, the Scepter still may sway
While
Titan cease, to rule the glistring Day;
That grace and Peace may flourish in our Land,
And blest
Astrea have the sole command:
That they who love
Sion's felicitie,
His Counsellors, and Courtiers may be.
Lord from his Throne all Parasites remove,
And fire-brands
Sion hate, that
Rome do love.
So he a blessed King shall reign on Earth,
And Ages all, shall blaze his fame and worth.
God shall be honour'd, and the
Kingdoms three
Shall blesse the time, they did
King Charles see.
A LETTER SENT FROM
John Bacon, an Officer (under Sir
Simon Harcot in
Dublin) to
John Bibie an Officer in the Tower of
LONDON.
DEare Friend, for all your former favours I heartily thanke you, and in requitall thereof, I can doe no lesse than impart to you the heads of our late proceedings.
Wee have lost two Lieutenants and two Ensignes of our Regiment on service that wee have been upon; Wee drew out three thousand foote and horse with us, and went twelve miles into the Countrey, wee drew out with us foure field Pieces, thinking to give the Rebells a pitcht Battell, but they run away like dogges, where wee tooke twentie and odde of the Rebells, and hanged them up, that had formerly burned a Towne called
Newerd-Castell, and another Castle close
[Page 7]by it called
Castle-Lyons; and then we marcht for the
Nase, where we lay one night and a day, and tooke the Towne, and fired eleven Townes besides, and there wee lay foure dayes in the fields horse and foote: Our Forces were under Command of Sir
Simon Harcot, and Sir
Charles Coote, and Collonell
Crayford. The Horse was under the Command of the Earle of
Ormond, Lievtenant Generall of the Field. Since that wee went to a Castle called
Artaine, where wee took good provision, and had good pillage, and are now safe returned to
Dublin, thankes be to the Lord for it.
Wee may well say, the Lord hath been with us in six
troubles, and in the seventh he hath not left us.
If it had not been the Lord, who was on our side,
when men rose up against us:
Then they had swallowed us up quicke: when their
wrath was kindled against us.
Blessed be the Lord: who hath not given us as a prey
to their teeth.
Dublin
Feb. 12. 1641.
I rest yours to use, JOHN BACON.
FINIS.