Chapter 2

I always loved to call my lady Rose (Lichfild) I have house and land in Kent (Melismata) I joy not in no earthly bliss (Byrd) I live and yet methinks I do not breathe (Wilbye) I marriage would forswear (Maynard) I only am the man (Maynard) I saw my Lady weep (John Dowland) I sung sometime my thoughts and fancy's pleasure (Wilbye) I weigh not Fortune's frown nor smile (Gibbons) I will no more come to thee (Morley) If fathers knew but how to leave (Jones) If I urge my kind desires (Campion and Rosseter) If my complaints could passions move (John Dowland) If thou long'st so much to learn, sweet boy, what 'tis to love (Campion) If women could be fair and never fond (Byrd) In crystal towers and turrets richly set (Byrd) In darkness let me dwell, the ground shall sorrow be (Coprario) In midst of woods or pleasant grove (Mundy) In pride of May (Weelkes) In Sherwood lived stout Robin Hood (Jones) In the merry month of May (Este) Inconstant Laura makes me death to crave (Greaves) Injurious hours, whilst any joy doth bless me (Lichfild) Is Love a boy,--what means he then to strike (Byrd) It was the frog in the well (Melismata)

Jack and Joan they think no ill (Campion)

Kind are her answers (Campion) Kind in unkindness, when will you relent (Campion and Rosseter)

Lady, the birds right fairly (Weelkes) Lady, the melting crystal of your eye (Greaves) Lady, when I behold the roses sprouting (Wilbye) Let not Chloris think, because (Danyel) Let not the sluggish sleep (Byrd) Let us in a lovers' round (Mason and Earsden) Like two proud armies marching in the field (Weelkes) Lo! country sport that seldom fades (Weelkes) Lo! when back mine eye (Campion) Long have I lived in Court (Maynard) Love is a bable (Jones) Love not me for comely grace (Wilbye) Love's god is a boy (Jones) Love winged my hopes and taught me how to fly (Jones)

"Maids are simple," some men say (Campion) Maids to bed and cover coal (Melismata) More than most fair, full of all heavenly fire (Peerson) Mother, I will have a husband (Vautor) My hope a counsel with my heart (Este) My love bound me with a kiss (Jones) My love is neither young nor old (Jones) My mind to me a kingdom is (Byrd) My prime of youth is but a frost of cares (Mundy) My sweetest Lesbia, let us live and love (Campion) My Thoughts are winged with Hopes, my Hopes with Love (John Dowland)

Never love unless you can (Campion) Now each creature joys the other (Farmer) Now every tree renews his summer's green (Weelkes) Now God be with old Simeon (Pammelia) Now have I learn'd with much ado at last (Jones) Now I see thy looks were feigned (Ford) Now is my Chloris fresh as May (Weelkes) Now is the month of maying (Morley) Now let her change! and spare not (Campion) Now let us make a merry greeting (Weelkes) Now what is love, I pray thee tell (Jones) Now winter nights enlarge (Campion)

O say, dear life, when shall these twin-born berries (Ward) O stay, sweet love; see here the place of sporting (Farmer) O sweet, alas, what say you (Morley) O sweet delight, O more than human bliss (Campion) Oft have I mused the cause to find (Jones) On a time the amorous Silvy (Attye) Once did I love and yet I live (Jones) Once I thought to die for love (Youll) Our country swains in the morris dance (Weelkes)

Pierce did love fair Petronel (Farnaby) Pour forth, mine eyes, the fountains of your tears (Pilkington)

Robin is a lovely lad (Mason and Earsden) Round-a, round-a, keep your ring (Ravenscroft)

See, see, mine own sweet jewel (Morley) Shall a frown or angry eye (Corkine) Shall I abide this jesting (Alison) Shall I come, sweet Love, to thee (Campion) Shall I look to ease my grief (Jones) She whose matchless beauty staineth (Jones) Shoot, false Love! I care not (Morley) Silly boy! 'tis full moon yet, thy night as day shines clearly (Campion) Simkin said that Sis was fair (Farnaby) Since first I saw your face I resolved to honour and renown ye (Ford) Sing we and chant it (Morley) Sister, awake! close not your eyes (Bateson) Sleep, angry beauty, sleep and fear not me (Campion) So light is love, in matchless beauty shining (Wilbye) Some can flatter, some can feign (Corkine) Sweet, come again (Campion and Rosseter) Sweet Cupid, ripen her desire (Corkine) Sweet heart, arise! why do you sleep (Weelkes) Sweet Kate (Jones) Sweet Love, if thou wilt gain a monarch's glory (Wilbye) Sweet Love, I will no more abuse thee (Weelkes) Sweet Love, my only treasure (Jones) Sweet, stay awhile; why will you rise (John Dowland) Sweet Suffolk owl so trimly dight (Vautor)

Take here my heart, I give it thee for ever (Weelkes) Take time while time doth last (Farmer) The fly she sat in shamble-row (Deuteromelia) The Gods have heard my vows (Weelkes) The lark, linnet and nightingale to sing some say are best (Pammelia) The love of change hath changed the world throughout (Carlton) The lowest trees have tops, the ant her gall (John Dowland) The man of life upright (Campion and Rosseter) The greedy hawk with sudden sight of lure (Byrd) The match that's made for just and true respects (Byrd) The Nightingale so pleasant and so gay (Byrd) The Nightingale so soon as April bringeth (Bateson) The peaceful western wind (Campion) There is a garden in her face (Campion) There is a lady sweet and kind (Ford) There were three Ravens sat on a tree (Melismata) Think'st thou, Kate, to put me down (Jones) Think'st thou to seduce me then with words that have no meaning (Campion) Thou art but young, thou say'st (Wilbye) Thou art not fair, for all thy red and white (Campion and Rosseter) Thou pretty bird, how do I see (Danyel) Though Amaryllis dance in green (Byrd) Though my carriage be but careless (Weelkes) Though your strangeness frets my heart (Jones) Thrice blessed be the giver (Farnaby) Thrice toss these oaken ashes in the air (Campion) Thus I resolve and Time hath taught me so (Campion) Thus saith my Chloris bright (Wilbye) Thus saith my Galatea (Morley) To his sweet lute Apollo sang the motions of the spheres (Campion) To plead my faith, where faith hath no reward (Robert Dowland) To shorten winter's sadness (Weelkes) Toss not my soul, O Love, 'twixt hope and fear (John Dowland) Turn all thy thoughts to eyes (Campion)

Unto the temple of thy beauty (Ford) Upon a hill the bonny boy (Weelkes) Upon a summer's day Love went to swim (Byrd)

Vain men! whose follies make a god of love (Campion)

Wake, sleepy Thyrsis, wake (Pilkington) We be soldiers three (Deuteromelia) We be three poor mariners (Deuteromelia) We must not part as others do (Egerton MS. 2013) We shepherds sing, we pipe, we play (Weelkes) Wedded to will is witless (Byrd) Weep no more, thou sorry boy (Tomkins) Weep you no more, sad fountains (John Dowland) Welcome, sweet pleasure (Weelkes) Were I a king I might command content (Mundy) Were my heart as some men's are, thy errors would not move me (Campion) What hap had I to marry a shrow (Pammelia) What is our life? a play of passion (Gibbons) What needeth all this travail and turmoiling (Wilbye) What pleasure have great Princes (Byrd) What poor astronomers are they (John Dowland) What then is love, sings Corydon (Ford) When Flora fair the pleasant tidings bringeth (Carlton) When I was otherwise than now I am (Byrd) When thou must home to shades of underground (Campion and Rosseter) When younglings first on Cupid fix their sight (Byrd) Where most my thoughts, there least mine eye is striking (Wilbye) Where shall a sorrow great enough be sought (Peerson) Whether men do laugh or weep (Campion and Rosseter) While that the sun with his beams hot (Byrd) Whilst youthful sports are lasting (Weelkes) White as lilies was her face (John Dowland) Whither so fast? see how the kindly flowers (Pilkington) Who likes to love, let him take heed (Byrd) Who made thee, Hob, forsake the plough (Byrd) Who prostrate lies at women's feet (Bateson) Who would have thought that face of thine (Farmer) Why are you Ladies staying (Weelkes) Wilt thou, Unkind! thus 'reave me (John Dowland) Wise men patience never want (Campion) Woeful heart with grief oppressed (John Dowland)

Ye bubbling springs that gentle music makes (Greaves) You blessed bowers whose green leaves now are spreading (Farmer) You that wont to my pipe's sound (Morley) Your shining eyes and golden hair (Bateson)

LYRICS FROM ELIZABETHAN SONG-BOOKS.

_Let well-tuned words amaze With harmony divine._ CAMPION.

LYRICS FROM ELIZABETHAN SONG-BOOKS.

From FARMER's _First Set of English Madrigals_, 1599.

A little pretty bonny lass was walking In midst of May before the sun gan rise; I took her by the hand and fell to talking Of this and that as best I could devise: I swore I would--yet still she said I should not; Do what I would, and yet for all I could not.

From JOHN DOWLAND's _Second Book of Songs or Airs_, 1600.

A shepherd in a shade his plaining made Of love and lover's wrong Unto the fairest lass that trod on grass, And thus began his song: "Since Love and Fortune will, I honour still Your fair and lovely eye: What conquest will it be, sweet Nymph, for thee If I for sorrow die? Restore, restore my heart again Which love by thy sweet looks hath slain, Lest that, enforced by your disdain, I sing 'Fie on love! it is a foolish thing.'

"My heart where have you laid? O cruel maid, To kill when you might save! Why have ye cast it forth as nothing worth, Without a tomb or grave? O let it be entombed and lie In your sweet mind and memory, Lest I resound on every warbling string 'Fie, fie on love! that is a foolish thing.' Restore, restore my heart again Which love by thy sweet looks hath slain, Lest that, enforced by your disdain, I sing 'Fie on love! it is a foolish thing.'"

From THOMAS WEELKES' _Madrigals of Six Parts_, 1600.

A Sparrow-Hawk proud did hold in wicked jail Music's sweet chorister, the nightingale, To whom with sighs she said: "O set me free! And in my song I'll praise no bird but thee." The hawk replied, "I will not lose my diet To let a thousand such enjoy their quiet."

From ROBERT JONES' _First Book of Airs_, 1601.

A woman's looks Are barbed hooks, That catch by art The strongest heart When yet they spend no breath; But let them speak, And sighing break Forth into tears, Their words are spears That wound our souls to death.

The rarest wit Is made forget, And like a child Is oft beguiled With love's sweet-seeming bait; Love with his rod So like a God Commands the mind; We cannot find, Fair shows hide foul deceit.

Time, that all things In order brings, Hath taught me how To be more slow In giving faith to speech, Since women's words No truth affords, And when they kiss They think by this Us men to over-reach.

From THOMAS MORLEY's _First Book of Ballets to Five Voices_, 1595.

About the maypole new, with glee and merriment, While as the bagpipe tooted it, Thyrsis and Chloris fine together footed it: And to the joyous instrument Still they went to and fro, and finely flaunted it, And then both met again and thus they chaunted it. Fa la!

The shepherds and the nymphs them round enclosed had, Wond'ring with what facility, About they turn'd them in such strange agility; And still when they unloosed had, With words full of delight they gently kissed them, And thus sweetly to sing they never missed them. Fa la!

From JOHN WILBYE's _First Set of English Madrigals_, 1598.

Adieu, sweet Amaryllis! For since to part your will is, O heavy, heavy tiding! Here is for me no biding. Yet once again, ere that I part with you, Adieu, sweet Amaryllis; sweet, adieu!

From THOMAS MORLEY's _First Book of Madrigals_, 1594.

April is in my mistress' face, And July in her eyes hath place; Within her bosom is September, But in her heart a cold December.

From ROBERT JONES' _Second Book of Songs and Airs_, 1601.

Arise, my thoughts, and mount you with the sun, Call all the winds to make you speedy wings, And to my fairest Maya see you run And weep your last while wantonly she sings; Then if you cannot move her heart to pity, Let _Oh, alas, ay me_ be all your ditty.

Arise, my thoughts, no more, if you return Denied of grace which only you desire, But let the sun your wings to ashes burn And melt your passions in his quenchless fire; Yet, if you move fair Maya's heart to pity, Let smiles and love and kisses be your ditty.

Arise, my thoughts, beyond the highest star And gently rest you in fair Maya's eye, For that is fairer than the brightest are; But, if she frown to see you climb so high, Couch in her lap, and with a moving ditty, Of smiles and love and kisses, beg for pity.

From THOMAS CAMPION's _Two Books of Airs_ (circ. 1613).

Awake, awake! thou heavy sprite That sleep'st the deadly sleep of sin! Rise now and walk the ways of light, 'Tis not too late yet to begin. Seek heaven early, seek it late; True Faith finds still an open gate.

Get up, get up, thou leaden man! Thy track, to endless joy or pain, Yields but the model of a span: Yet burns out thy life's lamp in vain! One minute bounds thy bane or bliss; Then watch and labour while time is.

From HENRY YOULL's _Canzonets to three voices_, 1608.

Awake, sweet Love! 'tis time to rise: Ph[oe]bus is risen in the east, Spreading his beams on those fair eyes Which are enclosed with Nature's rest. Awake, awake from heavy sleep Which all thy thoughts in silence keep!

From JOHN WILBYE's _First Set of English Madrigals_, 1598.

Ay me, can every rumour Thus start my lady's humour? Name ye some galante to her, Why straight forsooth I woo her. Then burst[s] she forth in passion "You men love but for fashion;" Yet sure I am that no man Ever so loved woman. Then alas, Love, be wary, For women be contrary.

From THOMAS BATESON's _First Set of English Madrigals_, 1604.

Ay me, my mistress scorns my love; I fear she will most cruel prove. I weep, I sigh, I grieve, I groan; Yet she regardeth not my moan. Then, Love, adieu! it fits not me To weep for her that laughs at thee.

From JOHN DOWLAND's _Third and Last Book of Songs or Airs_, 1603.

Behold a wonder here! Love hath receiv'd his sight! Which many hundred year Hath not beheld the light.

Such beams infused be By Cynthia in his eyes, As first have made him see And then have made him wise.

Love now no more will weep For them that laugh the while! Nor wake for them that sleep, Nor sigh for them that smile!

So powerful is the Beauty That Love doth now behold, As Love is turned to Duty That's neither blind nor bold.

Thus Beauty shows her might To be of double kind; In giving Love his sight And striking Folly blind.

From the Second Book of _Musica Transalpina_, 1597.

Brown is my Love, but graceful: And each renowned whiteness Match'd with thy lovely brown loseth its brightness.

Fair is my Love, but scornful: Yet have I seen despised Dainty white lilies, and sad flowers well prized.

From JOHN DOWLAND's _Third and Last Book of Songs or Airs_, 1603.

By a fountain where I lay, (All blessed be that blessed day!) By the glimm'ring of the sun, (O never be her shining done!) When I might see alone My true Love, fairest one! Love's dear light! Love's clear sight! No world's eyes can clearer see! A fairer sight, none can be!

Fair with garlands all addrest, (Was never Nymph more fairly blest!) Blessed in the highest degree, (So may she ever blessed be!) Came to this fountain near, With such a smiling cheer! Such a face, Such a grace! Happy, happy eyes, that see Such a heavenly sight as She!

Then I forthwith took my pipe, Which I all fair and clean did wipe, And upon a heavenly ground, All in the grace of beauty found, Play'd this roundelay: "Welcome, fair Queen of May! Sing, sweet air! Welcome, Fair! Welcome be the Shepherds' Queen, The glory of all our green!"

From THOMAS RAVENSCROFT's _Brief Discourse, &c._, 1614.

THE URCHINS' DANCE.

By the moon we sport and play, With the night begins our day: As we frisk the dew doth fall; Trip it, little urchins all! Lightly as the little bee, Two by two, and three by three; And about, about go we.

THE ELVES' DANCE.

Round about in a fair ring-a, Thus we dance and thus we sing-a; Trip and go, to and fro, Over this green-a; All about, in and out, Over this green-a.

From _Melismata_, 1611.

THE COURTIER'S GOOD MORROW TO HIS MISTRESS.

Canst thou love and lie alone? Love is so disgraced, Pleasure is best Wherein is rest In a heart embraced. Rise, rise, rise! Daylight do not burn out; Bells do ring and birds do sing, Only I that mourn out.

Morning-star doth now appear, Wind is hushed and sky is clear; Come, come away, come, come away! Canst thou love and burn out day? Rise, rise, rise! Daylight do not burn out; Bells do ring [and] birds do sing, Only I that mourn out.

From ROBERT DOWLAND's _Musical Banquet_, 1610. (Lines by the Earl of Essex.)

Change thy mind since she doth change, Let not fancy still abuse thee, Thy untruth cannot seem strange When her falsehood doth excuse thee: Love is dead and thou art free, She doth live but dead to thee.

Whilst she loved thee best a while, See how she hath still delayed thee: Using shows for to beguile, Those vain hopes that have deceived thee: Now thou seest, although too late, Love loves truth which women hate.

Love no more since she is gone, She is gone and loves another: Being once deceived by one, Leave her love but love none other. She was false, bid her adieu, She was best but yet untrue.

Love, farewell, more dear to me Than my life, which thou preservest. Life, all joys are gone from thee; Others have what thou deservest. Oh my death doth spring from hence, I must die for her offence.

Die, but yet before thou die, Make her know what she hath gotten, She in whom my hopes did lie Now is changed, I quite forgotten. She is changed, but changed base, Baser in so vild a place.

From THOMAS WEELKES' _Madrigals of Five and Six Parts_, 1600.

Cold Winter's ice is fled and gone, And Summer brags on every tree, The red-breast peeps amidst the throng Of wood-born birds that wanton be: Each one forgets what they have been, And so doth Phyllis, Summer's queen.

From JOHN DOWLAND's _First Book of Songs or Airs_, 1597.

Come away! come, sweet Love! The golden morning breaks; All the earth, all the air, Of love and pleasure speaks! Teach thine arms then to embrace, And sweet rosy lips to kiss, And mix our souls in mutual bliss. Eyes were made for beauty's grace Viewing, ruing, love's long pain; Procured by beauty's rude disdain.

Come away![3] come, sweet Love! The golden morning wastes While the sun from his sphere His fiery arrows casts: Making all the shadows fly, Playing, staying in the grove To entertain the stealth of love. Thither, sweet Love, let us hie, Flying, dying in desire, Wing'd with sweet hopes and heavenly fire.

Come away! come, sweet Love! Do not in vain adorn Beauty's grace, that should rise Like to our naked morn! Lilies on the river's side, And fair Cyprian flowers new-blown, Desire no beauties but their own: Ornament is nurse of pride. Pleasure measure[s] love's delight: Haste then, sweet love, our wished flight!

[3] This stanza is not in the original, but is added in _England's Helicon_.

From THOMAS CAMPION's _Third Book of Airs_ (circ. 1613).

Come, O come, my life's delight! Let me not in languor pine! Love loves no delay; thy sight The more enjoyed, the more divine! O come, and take from me The pain of being deprived of thee!

Thou all sweetness dost enclose, Like a little world of bliss; Beauty guards thy looks, the rose In them pure and eternal is: Come, then, and make thy flight As swift to me as heavenly light!

From THOMAS FORD's _Music of Sundry Kinds_, 1607.

Come, Phyllis, come into these bowers: Here shelter is from sharpest showers, Cool gales of wind breathe in these shades, Danger none this place invades; Here sit and note the chirping birds Pleading my love in silent words.

Come, Phyllis, come, bright heaven's eye Cannot upon thy beauty pry; Glad Echo in distinguished voice Naming thee will here rejoice; Then come and hear her merry lays Crowning thy name with lasting praise.

From JOHN WILBYE's _Second Set of Madrigals_, 1609.

Come, shepherd swains, that wont to hear me sing, Now sigh and groan! Dead is my Love, my Hope, my Joy, my Spring; Dead, dead, and gone! O, She that was your Summer's Queen, Your days' delight, Is gone and will no more be seen; O, cruel spite! Break all your pipes that wont to sound With pleasant cheer, And cast yourselves upon the ground To wail my Dear! Come, shepherd swains, come, nymphs, and all a-row To help me cry: Dead is my Love, and, seeing She is so, Lo, now I die!

From _Two Books of Airs_, by THOMAS CAMPION (circ. 1613).

Come, you pretty false-eyed wanton, Leave your crafty smiling! Think you to escape me now With slipp'ry words beguiling? No; you mocked me th' other day; When you got loose, you fled away; But, since I have caught you now, I'll clip your wings for flying: Smoth'ring kisses fast I'll heap And keep you so from crying.

Sooner may you count the stars And number hail down-pouring, Tell the osiers of the Thames, Or Goodwin sands devouring, Than the thick-showered kisses here Which now thy tired lips must bear. Such a harvest never was So rich and full of pleasure, But 'tis spent as soon as reaped, So trustless is lore's treasure.

From THOMAS CAMPION's _Third Book of Airs_ (circ. 1613).

Could my heart more tongues employ Than it harbours thoughts of grief, It is now so far from joy That it scarce could ask relief: Truest hearts by deeds unkind To despair are most inclined.

Happy minds that can redeem Their engagements how they please, That no joys or hopes esteem Half so precious as their ease: Wisdom should prepare men so, As if they did all foreknow.

Yet no art or caution can Grown affections easily change; Use is such a lord of man That he brooks worst what is strange: Better never to be blest Than to lose all at the best.

From WILLIAM BYRD's _Psalms, Songs, and Sonnets_, 1611.

Crowned with flowers I saw fair Amaryllis By Thyrsis sit, hard by a fount of crystal, And with her hand more white than snow or lilies, On sand she wrote _My faith shall be immortal_: And suddenly a storm of wind and weather Blew all her faith and sand away together.