University of Virginia Library

Arme, arme, to Armes, the Trumpets sound each where,
And Drummes doe beate in ev'rie Martiall eare:
Rouze vp; my brave and valiant Countrie-men,
The golden Age doth now returne againe;
In which our swords shall sheare enough vnsowne,
And make the fruits of everie field our owne:
The harvest of true Honour draweth neere,
When everie head that would a Laurell weare
Must clad in shyning steele march to the field,
And gather Crownes which sorrowes then will yeeld.
While Kings enthron'd in dust doe gasping lie,
And clowds of smoake eclypse the Sunne and skie:
Which Cannons thundring throats doe vomite forth,
Where death and danger showes to trye true Worth:
O what a brave occasion have you now!
To make the Earth and all her Monarchs bow
To your victorious Armes? which heeretofore
No forraine yoke of bondage ever bore;
When all the sur-face of this spatious Round,
Where either Land or Iland could bee found,
That might inlarge Romes Empire was made thrall
Her ravenous Eagles soaring over all,
You kept your bounds vnconquer'd to this day,
And did Romes Empire bound, her conquests stay,
And made her powerfull hoasts your harme so feare,
That they huge Ramparts of defence did reare
From axe-armde Scots invasion, you who ne're
By any stranger yet subdued were,
If Heavens great favour you implore a while:
Which never did but on your Armies smile,
You may presume (and with good hope) to bring.
The World t'adore the Lyon for her King:
For why were you reserued ever free,
If not the Emperours of this Earth to be?

Our Nation euer hath most Noble beene,
And all the Neighbouring World hath wondring seene.
More Worthies, sent from hence in forraine Warre,
Whose Courage greatest dangers could not marre,
Then ever any Kingdome all about.
Could for her owne defence at home bring out,
For Warre hath beene the practice of this Land.
Since Fergus footed first our Scotish sand,
And ere our fathers in the World did come,
They heard th'Alarums in their mothers wombe,
Which made them all borne Souldiers, for the feild
Their birth-place was, their cradle was a shielde,
Why should not we then, sprung of warrlike race;
Our worthie grandsires wayes and footings trace?
To show this wretched world that courage bold,
Doeth liue in vs which shinde in them of old,
And that our World-diuided Ile can send,
To drowne all lands forth a deluge of Men.

Braue fellowes! doe but backe reflect your sight.
On Ages past, with wonder and delight,
You will transported find an vncouth fire
Burne in your breasts with flames of braue desire.
To make you one day like these Heroes great,
Whose memorie liues fresh and valour yet.
And of whose loynes while they this land defended,
You were in armes begot and are descended.

Behold in France eight hundred yeares and more,
To Charlemaigne foure thousand Scots sent ore,
Securd his Kingdome from the Saxon harmes,
And well deservde with their defensive armes,
For which the Lillyes of our golden feild,
Enclose the Lion in our Royall sheild.

Behold two thousand in Ierusalem,
Braue Champions of the faith, true Scotish men:
Led by great Hugo Philip's brother bold,
Who then the scepter of faire France did hold.

Behold the holy King saint Lowys then,
Proud to lead on three thousand Scots againe.
To Palestine, whilst that braue Earle of March,
Their, Captaine by his side did stoutelie march,
Of whose assistance finding so much good,
Our third King Alexanders helpe he su'd,
And had two thousand more sent to his neede;
Whom Atholls Earle and Carricts Counte did lead.

Behold our second Dauid arme for ayde,
To Iohn of France three thousand Souldiers, led
By William Earle of Douglas, which did all
In Poictou with the French in battle fall.

Behold our Robert send to Charles againe,
Seuen thousand, stout and Warrelike fighting Men,
Of which Iohn Earle of Buchan Gen'rall went,
And there the Earle of Wigtoun, though not sent,
Who in these warres deservd so well of France,
That Charles brave Buchans merite to advance
Made him great Constable of France, and sent
Backe all his noble bandes againe, content
Till time requirde their ayde, and callde them ore,
To France supplied with three thousand more.

All these, and many thousands more of late,
Haue in their freinds defence gainde honors great.
The Douglasses long Dukes of Touraine were,
The Hamiltons of Chastelraut yet are,
The Stuarts Lords of Aubigny till now,
Whose grandsyres to that height of greatnesse grew,
That one of them had absolute command
Ore all the gaged Souldiers of the Land.
Another governd Millans state and reyne
And one in Naples Vice-Roy did reigne,
Who after liv'd great Generall to bee
Of all the force of France in Italie:
And of that Armie which hee hither led
In England sent vnto seventh Henries aide.

What noble minde not ravisht is to read,
In th'Annalls of those noble Hero's dead;
Whose worth surviving time, shall never die
But live enrolled in Eternitie?
O brave and happie Ghosts! for ever rest
In heavens triumphant glorie crownde and blest,
That you may from the rolling Spheares above
Behold the bodyes where your Soules doe move;
Assisted with your happie influence,
Live ever famous in all ages hence
To doe great things as you have done before,
Whose memory and Names time doth adore.
And you my Country-men cast vp your eyes
On those bright starres now fixt in honours skyes;
Glasse in their glorious deedes your actions all,
Now while this brave occasion doth you call.
Shunne sluggish rest, and that lethargicke sleepe,
Which doth your soules so long intranced keepe
In the base shadowes of obscuritie.
Vp, vp, awake that all the World may see,
The Scotish Souldier glistring in bright steele,
To make the Earth to stagger, shake and reele,
Drunke with her dwellers blood, who dare withstand
Refusing Charles his yoke, when you command
To draw his waine, and proud triumphant Carre,
Betwixt the Artick and Antartick starre.
Let Tybers streames no more runne crystall hued,
But black with goare, and Danube swell embrued
With crimson colourd brookes, whose currants fall
Downe from the mountaines, and the valleyes all,
Wherewith your swordes the sources opned bee,
To make the Ocean all but one Red Sea.

Then, as this happy soyle hath lent you birth,
Which earst did bring so many great ones foorth,
Showe you are valourous, and Scotts men true,
Whose arms can worlds of Enemies subdue:
Shake off all ease, and for soft beds of downe
To rest vpon the stony earth lie downe.
Make Water Nectar, which you muddie drinke
Into a Morrian, and never thinke
On VVine, nor on that fine and daintie fare
For which no soule but pampred slaues do care:
Away those vaine attires of strange disguise
And gaudie clothes which glance in Ladies eyes.
The Corslet will become you better farre
And mould you brauelie like to men of VVarre,
Let painted puppies, womanish conceates,
Court monkies, which on fauour's smile awaits,
Fard, frize, and painte, for me, I never seeke
To haue a better collour on my cheeke;
Then when the dust and sweate doe hide my face,
Me thinkes such grim-nesse is a Souldiers grace:
And for that softnesse mignard youthes affect,
My humor scornes it in disdaind neglect.

Let me still heare the Cannons thundring voice,
In terror threaten ruine; that sweet noyse
Rings in my eares more pleasing than the sound
Of any Musickes consort can bee found.
Show mee two Armies which embattled stand,
VVith Squadrons spred abroad on everie hand
And readie to encounter: such a fight
Doth more bereave my senses with delight
Than all the pompous showes the Court affords.
And Mignons maskes of Ladye and of Lords.
To see them give a charge, make a retraite,
Heere a Battallion broke, there one defaite;
A troup of horse charge footmen on the flankes:
Who closelie keepe their order, and their rankes,
The Pikes stand like a forrest broad and faire,
And streight presenting make a front all-where,
To heare the Trumpets sound, drummes thundring round,
Make Heaven and earth, the Sea and land resound,
As if this All should suddainelie bee brought
To that confusion whence it first was wrought.
Then to see leggs and armes torne ragged flie,
And bodyes gasping all dismembred lie,
One head beate off another, while the hand
Sheaths in his neighbours breast his bloodie brand,
A Cannon bullet take a Ranke away,
A Volley of small shoe eclypse the day
With smoke of sulphure, which no sooner cleares,
But death and horrour everie where appeares;
The Vantguards joyne, of which the one orethrowes
The other, and ere all their bellies goes:
And then the Battles meete, at which doth stay
The victorie and fortune of the day.
There wounds with wounds are payd, and death with death
There, furie offreth to a conquering wrath.
The dying groanes of such as durst affront
A noble Courage, which did theirs surmount.
Where glorie binds her palmes about the head,
Who for true honour doth no danger dread,
But as a Lyon, roaring to asswage
Among the heards of sheepe his hungers rage,
Doth teare and rend, byte, kill on everie side,
Vntill his appetite bee satisfied.
So hee makes all about him find his blowes,
Whose weight who ever findeth downeward goes:
Then fall the conquerde Ensignes to the ground,
With those that bate them vp in blood now drownd.
The Conquerours crye aloud, the conquerd die,
And sigh their last to see that Victorie:
VVhilst a retraite is sounding over all
The Victors troups in order backe to call
VVho rich in honour, and in bootie come
Chargde with their Enemies spoyles triumphant home.

These are the glorious showes which in mine eyes
Surpasse all glistring pompe and vanities.
The Campe's my Court, wherein a Corslet clad,
I find more ease of mind, and walk more glad
Than hee who lac'd in gold and velvet goes
Proud of the silken glose of fading cloathes.
The trenches are my walkes where oft for sport,
And recreation sweet I doe resort,
There midst the flames of lightining, and the rayne,
Of Musquet bullets pour'd on hundreds slayne,
I walke securelie, and with more content,
Than if my howres were in soft pleasure spent.
If any new designe or Enterprise
Be hatch'd, in which apparent danger lies,
And none but such as faine wold honour winne,
Dare venter or attempt, O! there I runne
As others to a feast, and when I scale
A Towne or fort, and see our plott prevaile,
Though death did marre my way, my wishe goes even,
I'de thinke it were the way to honors heaven.

This way our grandsires went, this way our sires,
This way must hee to honour who aspires,
By this our brethren in these latter dayes,
Haue in the Schooles of VVarre beene crown'd with bayes:
Shall wee who follow them degener then?
And not bee like our valiant Country-men?
VVho when calme peace at home their minds did marre,
Did seeke employment into forraine VVarre;
As Holland well can witnesse, who did find
Their friendly help, and first did prove them kind
Of any neighbour Nation, when opprest
With Tyrannie she first her neck did wrest
From Spaines hard yoke, and did her power disdaine
A stated freedome since to entertaine
By force of Armes; though not her owne God knowes,
For all her Conquests to our Court'sie owes.
A noble share which shee forgetting now
Her vile ingratitude doth baselie show.
For had they not at Nuyport fought it out,
When but an handfull left, enclosd about,
The fortune of that day had not beene good,
But they would seale it with their dearest blood:
And buye the Victorie at such a rate,
As might deserve more thankes, if friendly met.

The Germane Warres a number did invite,
For our Eliza's Crowne with her to fight,
Who all alace! were in her losses lost,
So Heavns have in those parts our parties crost.
But yet wee hope to see the day againe.
On which than ere more glorious shee shall reigne,
When Heidelberg, which now her want doth mourne,
Her sighes of sorrow in sweet Songs shall turne.
And her Triumphant bands shall march along
The bankes of Rbene remembring former wrong.
And make the flood Nymphes blush for joy to see
Their Queene returne in pompe of Majestie.

Denmark our gallants daylie doth employ
In hard exploits to worke their foes annoy;
And finds them prove true Scotsmen like themselve
Where blood empurpleth oft the streames of Elve.

Sweden emplores the ayde of Scotish bands,
Which in her best defence most bravelie stands
Against the fierce Polonian Cassaques force,
And sees them shake the Squadrons of their horse.

The World all finds our help, or feares our harme,
If once our CHARLES should in his anger arme,
O what an Armie then should spread her winges?
Over all Europe's face to daunt her Kings?
When England is our owne with vs to goe.
What may wee not? whom can wee not orethrow?
If God bee not against our great designes,
Where Sunne doth rise, and where his Carre declines,
From frozen Zembla to the torride Zone,
Thence to the Southerne Cape wee'll make our owne;
And all shall be great Brittaines Empire wide,
Having no neighbours but the Seas beside.

Goe to then braue and hopefull Scottish brood,
And with your Swords let out the boyling blood,
Of the sicke Worlde in time, before shee bee
Full brainesicke taken with a frenesie:
Lest in her madnesse hauing double strength,
Shee proue vndaunted head strong at the length,
And cannot be in that subiection ti'de
In which is fitt shee should to you abide:
First in the right arme Fraunce, set ope a veyne
To weaken her, then in the left arme Spayne,
Rippe vp another, whereby shee may bleed,
Out all that may or can infect the head,
But never bind them vp vntill the goare,
Haue made a Sea, a Sea without a shoare.

Time serues you now, come Caualiers or never,
(Whom Heavens haue ioynd no Earthlie powre can seuer)
Braue Scottes and English ioyne your hearts and hands,
As loue hath done your long diuided lands,
Put both your Crosses white and red in one,
To fill Great Charles his standard with a sunne:
Which shall oreshine with glorious spreading beames,
The Vniuersall World in firie gleames:
And make his Enemies for feare looke blacke
Or at the sight dasht, flie and turne their backe
For honours sake and for your Countries fame,
As now this Iland all hath but one Name,
One King, one Faith, one Language, and one Lawe,
So let one Loue your Hearts together drawe,
That all Scotes, English, English-Scotes, may be,
Possest with that same minde which ruleth mee.
Then wee shall see that long expected day,
VVhen all our Lordings armde, shall cast away
The frizled perwigges, powders, and perfumes,
VVhich fœminine conceits no Man becomes,
And put on plumed casques with loftie crests
Vpon their heads, and Corslets on their brests,
And for soft carpets in the Court, betake
Themselves vpon the ground their beds to make,
A stone for pillowe shall support their heads,
VVithin these curtaines which starrde Heaven spreads.
The raine and snow shall then best incense prove,
To purge the rowme, and loathsome smells remove,
Their dyet such as bounteous heaven hath sent
Vpon Occasion, yeelding true Content,
And for a table eat it on the grasse,
Their hands to drinke the water for a glasse,
Or golden Bowle, in which they shall not neede
To feare mixt poyson, or to drinke with dread.
For save the durt and mud horse feete have made,
Of worse their neatnesse need not bee affrayde.

This is the life the Souldier lives and loves,
VVhich though it painefull bee, great pleasure proves.
And I doe thinke my selfe as happie then
VVhen I see nothing els but armed Men,
As hee whose eyes doe stare his wretched gold,
VVhich doth his soule a chained captive hold
VVithin a chest, and never doth delight
But when his pelfe is set into his sight.

The VVorld is made to serve the vse of Man,
I have enough what need I further than;
Tis Honour which I aime at, and to gaine
That sweetneth all the sowrnesse of my paine:
That is the scope to which my minde aspires,
That is the Soveraigne of my Soules desires.
Arme, arme, to armes the Trumpets sound all-where,
And Drummes doe beate in ev'rie Martiall care.