THE BEAUTY OF THE REMARKABLE Year of Grace, 1638. The Year of the great Covenant of Scotland.  
By T. H.   tree emblem 
Printed at Edinburgh by George Anderson, 1638.   

THE YEAR OF GRACE., 1638.  
WHO'ill favour me with wings, that I may flee  
To glories Mount, where Laureate Poets be?  
Fill me with sacred fire, You gentle Nine,  
Inspire me with your Gaïties Divine,  
Tune my Theorbe, sweet sisters, stretch the string  
Yet higher, that she may more sweetly sing.  
Hence all you Soul-dividing cares, go hence,  
You heart afflicting griefs, and but dispense  
A little with your Captive, let me play  
Within a paradise but one poor day:  
Remove your anger, your sad wrath forebear,  
Till I do sing the beauty of a year;  
In which luxurious amorous, Heaven doth woe  
His Mistress Earth, with smiles upon his brow,  
And would invite each Gentle Spirit to be  
A Poet of this epithalamie.  
Here all you smiling fancies, hasten here  
You nobler raptures of Apollo's Lyre,  
And throng within my breast, all you Idees  
Within his Cabinet, come if you please  
And my poor soul enrich, come all which may  
Teach a young wanton bashful pen to play.  
For now great HE, who streached the azure round  
About this hanging Ball, hath all things crowned  
With his best blessings, willing men rejoice  
In liberty of soul with thankful voice  
'Tis he that's clothed with light, and dwells in thunder,  
Displays this gracious Year, great Year of wonder▪  
A year, which shall unto all nations be  
A common talk, This our felicity  
Shall be the measure of their souls desire,  
And patter●● of their wishes, when th' aspire  
At such 〈◊〉 ●oy, peace, harmony, and bless  
As this Great year of our Great Covenant is  
In which are opened the eyes of Nations all.  
And filled with wonder, thus when our Nephews shall  
Ask at their fathers what this year did mean,  
(For after years from hence shall date their time  
In Almanacs, and in our history  
This year of joy gold letters shall descry)  
The Sage and Eldrs shall their children teach  
How heavens the glad wings of their love did stretch  
Upon the humble earth, and they shall tell  
How in these blessed days the land was full  
With sweetness of the Lord, even as we see  
The waters great which covereth the Sea  
They shall inform them how contract did pass  
'Twixt heavens, and earth, that so this great year was  
Year of the feast, in sign that there shall stand  
Betwixt them an Eternal Covenant;  
And now each Soul is filled with joy, each Man  
To tell posterity hath pen in hand,  
I wish to have as many souls and eyes  
T'admire and gaze, as stars are in the skies;  
And yet mine ecstasy would be but small  
In such excess, to see this newborn All,  
The wearied rolling heavens, the exhausted earth  
Like to the Eagle hath renewed their birth  
And looks, so young, so gay, as when of old  
Th'eternal King cast them in virgin mould,  
Or first came out of the eternal treasure,  
Embellished with the riches of all pleasure.  
The heavens displays a sweet and smiling grace,  
Without a wrinkle, or spot in their face:  
So do they shine, washed with a Crystal flood,  
As then, before the first impostor wooed  
The King of Creatures to taste the try  
Of mystic fruit, thus teaching him to die:  
So white the world new-walled did appear,  
Not stained with debauches of the air  
As yet, and in their serene infancy  
Of winds and raines, knew note the luxury.  
How thy embosomed the enamoured earth  
So kindly now? See how a gentle breath  
Doth feed all living things? What sweetness▪  
In this so universal Amity.  
O lively brightness! O the beauty rare!  
O force of Sun, and moon! O kindness dear  
Of favouring heavens! And where then was your skill  
Till now, that would not make your curtsy kill  
Our fears and poverty, now you do show  
More sweetness than both Arabees do know:  
You have reigned floods of Manna, th'earth doth swell  
Pamp'red in richer balm. What time can tell  
Celestial powers so strongly all combined,  
As in this year we wanton worldlings find?  
Heaven's treasures have been shut till now, but lo  
In golden floods of pleasures now we flow,  
Poured from the cabinet of him who reigns  
(Which this great year proclaims) above all Kings:  
With sublunary pleasures drunk, we see  
What Heavens can do, and what the Earth can be  
When she hath sucked best influence from above,  
Or when the Sun with crisped rays makes love:  
When hot flame masculine doth him inspire,  
And makes th'earth pregnant with his vigorous fire.  
Tell me thou Gentle Planet of the day,  
Who through star-poudred Scarf of heaven dost stray,  
Who gilds the heavens, & paints the earth with flowers,  
And flames of life through Neptune's bosom powers,  
Art Thou the same shined in our Father's days?  
Hath any brighter soul given thee new rays?  
What new things hath this earthly globe revealed?  
What from Thy sight till now hath it concealed?  
What change discovers thou in natural things?  
That thus thou flies 'bout us with glader wings?  
Indeed the Taper which we had before thee  
Was but a sparkling diamond to thy glory;  
Or like the thin squibes of thy Sister's face,  
When she the cold and silent vault doth grace:  
We must forsooth confess (Prince of the day)  
Thou obliges heaven and earth in a strange way:  
Thou hast deigned to'unvaile thy face, and now we see  
Thy naked die, which masked wont to be.  
Ah gallant Sun, thy wanton dangling hair  
Provokes the Frolic Earth t'embalme the air,  
Where numberless golden atoms of the day  
Hath hanging at each one pearls to array  
Proud Flora, looking like a glorious Bride,  
Attired with Majesty on every side;  
On which the Sun darts many an amorous look,  
Reading his active beauty on Heaven's Book,  
And dressing in Neptune's glass his jollier hairs,  
Each day courts hotlier, and more fine appears:  
No more the Gelded Son of this blessed Year  
Need now the anger of barbarous season fear,  
For his rebuke is taken away, and now  
Those fields to which retiring Sun did show  
His fainter face, do laugh as well as those,  
Who can boast of possession of the rose;  
Nay this whole yeere's but a continued May,  
Luxurious in her pride, and best array;  
And look how much the Heavens do the fire  
Excel, or yet how much the tender Air  
Exceed the grosser Water, even so  
Each Time, each Thing surpass their own kind too;  
The Clouds weep no more, and forget to rain,  
The Sun to leave us, and to turn his wain;  
The Southern Pole doth wonder at his stay,  
And 'gines to question what moves him to play  
So long within this arctic circled clime,  
'Tis cause he'd see the great change of the time;  
Which all the Elements do preach; which are  
Not of so lay a mettle as they were.  
But more ennobled, and less discordant.  
For in this great year of the Covenant  
An all-embracing sweetness doth enlive  
Each place and season, now all things do thriv●  
A sweet calm influence every where we see,  
As if each of the Stars had drunk a sea  
Of nectar, and inebriat every flower  
With their benign aspects, and heavenly power.  
Where would you send your large enquiring eyes?  
Would you them feast on th'earth, or on the skies?  
Or spring through th'air, where Bird briquils & plays,  
And sings to nature's king, with natured lays,  
But every where you's find a strange beauty,  
And reverend sweetness kiss your conquered eye;  
Each glorious object fills our curious soul,  
There's nothing now which our desires control:  
The smiling Heavens, flattering, seem to praise  
The strong-beamed Sun, with his refined rays,  
The feathered voices, Birds, devoutly bends  
Their keen and learned bills, which nimbly indents  
Thousand of various chequered conquering notes,  
Darted from mignon pretty warbling throats:  
The stately trees where these sweet woodnymph lodge,  
(These harmless painted Sirens, which disgorge  
Their mutual flames) being wounded with the joy,  
And sweetness of the espoused harmony  
Did amber tears, weep, cause they could not know  
Either to dance or sing, else they'd do so  
And keep a part, yet look they gladly shake  
Their curled topes, throwing blossoms to awake  
The sleeping Naides in their crystal streams  
And join their mirth with their nature's athemes,  
Wherein each pity nature courts the great  
Their own discords, and passions do forget.  
The swelling angry winds, who whipped the Sea,  
The terror of the woods which wont to be  
Rolling a lowering Horror through the deep,  
Affrighting Mortals in their harmless Sleep,  
With soft and silken wings now gently creep,  
Soliciting the winter flowers to peep,  
And with authority as Heavens cool Fan  
Correcting proud Don Phoebus melting flame.  
Their spicknard breathes do laughing blossoms blow  
To our labouring trees, and fruits upon them throw,  
And gently call out from their cloistered gems  
Our Pestan Roses glorying on their stems.  
The Arabian winds which boasted that they were  
Composed not as other meteors are  
But made of Amber Spirits, now do give  
Their best elixir, and do murmuring strive,  
Which shall our flowers most kindly entertain,  
And flatter Flora in an amorous strain:  
You pride of nature, glory in the year,  
Sweat flowers, what Genius bade you appear  
In your best garments? Would you be renowned  
'Cause each of you is worth a dyamound.  
If Pythagorick transmigration could  
'Mongst flowers, and trees established be, I would  
Say that these lovely souls this year are come  
To inhabit you from the Elezium,  
Your sweat Sabean odours choke us now,  
You have Arabian perfumes stifled too:  
Rare Beauties of rare Favour, whence be you,  
With your so pretty pride and uncouth hue?  
I think you be descended from that race  
Of Flora's People, which did Eden grace,  
Your Pompe's unusual, and ye seem to come  
Nature's Ambassadors, for to tell some  
Strange glory of this age, t'assure the land  
Of Heaven's acceptance of this Covenant,  
Which it hath sealed with our common King,  
This is belike the Sermon you do bring  
Your painted faces, and your pleasant light  
Makes of our Earth a constellation bright:  
Shine boldly Daughters of this blessed year;  
Rejoice you glittering Troop, and do not fear  
That Summer's angry Heat, and fretting Cold  
Of your sad enemy dare be so bold  
Zou to importune, or to robe your glory  
Ne'er ear did hear, ne'er eye did read in story  
Such year as this you're come to celebrate,  
Appointed by dear Providence, not Fate,  
Wherein Heavens spheres do give a prettier dance,  
And the great Mover will have no offence  
Given to any sublunary Creature  
(Sweet trees and flowers) but that your joy and pleasure,  
May be secure, and full, fred from the fear  
Of unkind Sun, or injuries of the year.  
Put forth aspiring Mountains these your lilies  
White as the snow in Salmon, you O valleys,  
Which with your violets like a garment are  
Most proudly clad, and fragrant as the myrrh,  
You likewise solemnize this happy year  
And stretch your carpets which embroidered are  
By nature's hand, who with Sydonian die  
Thrice drunk doth entertain the danceing eye:  
Behold this is the year of our great feast,  
The world is beautified, and we're oppressed  
With riches and delights, which do as far  
Exceed before times, as the Idalian star  
Outshines the lay meteors in the air  
Or shrinking shrubes, o'retopes the Cedars fair.  
Those Heaven-beloved trees do drink no more  
The vulgar vapours, as they did before,  
But feeds on Spirits of the Nobler Rose  
Alambiqued by the enquiring nose  
Of Phoebus' steeds, who snaring flames and light  
Do yield a relish of a strange delight.  
Now intertwist good Trees your amorous arms,  
Freely possess yourself in those your charms,  
No Shriv'ling wind dare now to tear your Hair  
Now doth your freiz'ld beruques sprusse appear,  
The incivile Zephyrs who were wont to rove  
Amongst your treasures, rushing from the Cove,  
Who all your dainties riffled, and threw down  
Your Pride, your children humbled to the ground:  
Those winds which your yet tender fruit did make  
All orphans, and yourself did cause to shake  
For very fear, now they do no more so,  
But kindly taimed more mercifully blow.  
If any of our forefathers should arise  
From nature's cold bed, and lift up his eyes  
Behold the Heavens renewed, the Earth refined  
The glory of all the Elements sublimed  
The beauty of the never-lowring Sun,  
The sweetness of the ever-pleasing Moon,  
The riches of each tree, blush of each rose,  
The treasures which golden Ceres doth disclose,  
And that before her time, he shall strait smile  
And say, This must be sure the fortunate Isle  
Or the Hesperids, blessed with the dew  
Of Heaven, wherein most lavishlie did grow  
The golden apples; or else he would conceive  
Both Rolls, were changed, and the Spheres to have  
Some other motion, or the Sun to approach  
From Southern people his eternal Coach,  
And us below the Equator for to lie,  
Where loftier Sun darts his director ray;  
And where he doth dispense a prouder light  
From his sublimer Throne flaming more bright.  
This good oldman, revived, which never saw  
But ordinary years, would stand in awe  
To call this Scotland, nay, sure he would be  
Like One transported to sweet Arabia  
From some cold hungry melancholic clime,  
To see the charge of season, place, and tyme.  
All other years being paragoned with this;  
Nor soul, nor life, nor beauty have, nor bless;  
And looks but like a winter, when these days  
Do glory in triumphing matchless rays.  
Like as the hosts of stars do shrink away;  
When gentle Phebe cometh forth to play,  
At whose appearing in her fuller grace  
Ashamed, like silly people they hide their face,  
And doth retire to a distance, for if she  
Approach too nigh, drowned with her glore they die:  
So other years that were the lights of time  
The glory of Chronicles, must now think shame,  
And hold themselves but rags when this shall be  
A diadem to all Eternity.  
The former years to this were but Aurore,  
And served to usher forth this great years Glore,  
Were but thin shades to that great Majesty  
Which now appears clothed with felicity.  
Nature hath spent her Spirit for to trim  
Herself with Buskins, and to grace the time,  
Strained all her Force and Riches for to show  
Unto the world what wonders she can do,  
She hath taught heavens spheres to'utweave a year so fine  
That of this Twist they have no more behind  
Which sweetly doth erect its stately head,  
O'relooking other humble years as dead,  
Termines the World's hopes, who wondering gaze:  
And crownes it worthy of immortal Bays.  
Who so the beauty of this year would show  
And paint it all exactly, he must know  
First, how to outstare the Sun, with his faint eyes,  
Number the Sand, and Dyamounds in the skies,  
For every Season, every Month and Day,  
Each blushing apple, at the Sun's proud ray  
Each forest, Garden, each embroidered Bray,  
Each rose, each lily, each brave busked tree,  
Each of their leaves, each atom of the Sun,  
When he is newborn, or when he's going down;  
Each twinkle of a star, or her sweet smile,  
Who did the boy Endymion ne'er beguile  
Would be too thronged in a volume great;  
And craves more lines than my poor pen can get,  
The Pagnim Poets who can magnify  
A silly rose, and base things deify,  
Who nature rude think that they do obscure,  
Metamorphosing, violets in stars pure  
Can no more reach the glory of this time  
And seasons beauty, nor they can confine  
The boundless Ocean in their narrow quill,  
Or with few atoms all this All can fill;  
Yet let's admire what we cannot attain;  
And prattle as we may with thankful, strain  
While that the rest of Nations all do burn  
With jealousy, holding themselves forlorn.  
You Mistress of the world, and Europe's eye;  
You Land, which doth in nature's bosom lie;  
And you, who never saw our Chairles-waine  
Lazy Boötes, and Cassiopea shine;  
And you who look alike to both the Poles,  
Whose double Summers no angry Heavens controls,  
All you who thought Heavens spheres did roll for you,  
And you alone, be not offended now;  
And spare your grudging, if we honoured be  
More by the Heavens, dearer to them nor ye.  
Stand by neglected Nations, Trouble not  
Our feasting, and our mirth, nor interrupt  
Our just conceived joy, learn to admire  
Heaven's power, and our felicity this year:  
And you beloved Indwellers of the land  
Crowned with advantages, Come hand in hand  
Let's shout till we do drown the Spheres in Heaven  
Arrest the Sun to stand, and Planets seven,  
And make the God of the fift Sphere throw'way  
His foolish sword, descend, and with us play;  
Each thing within the Universe express  
A sympathy of our joy and blessedness  
Come blow the trumpet, blow you heavens, rejoice,  
Be glad O Earth, Proud Sea, lift up your voice,  
Come with your olive garlands, come with palms  
Or with Uranias' flowers, and sing your Psalms  
You Virgin daughters, come you damesells all,  
And Zion's mountain enter shall the Ball;  
Reach me my warbling lute, and I'll accord  
Th' espoused veins, solicit every cord;  
I'll court the Ladie'f lyres, whose sacred womb  
All Graces, all sweet Melody doth entomb,  
Bring me my pleasant Harp, my Gythare dear,  
And I will join with you, I'll strain an air  
So sweet, so full, as shall you Hills entrance  
And make their Trees come laughing here, and dance,  
So doth a Candle help the Sun to see,  
So doth a silly Stream engross the Sea;  
So doth the Heaven in Arras work appear,  
With every imprisoned Star and silent Sphere,  
As my Rash Muse hath now diffused her lays  
And whispered as she could the great years praise  
Awaking highbred spirits that wear the Bays,  
To stretch their numbers, their proud notes to raise.  
Sic erat in fatis.  
FINIS.