Report fair Venus' moans to have no end. TO ZEPHERIA. From Zepheria, 1594, a volume of anonymous poetry, reprinted in Arber's Garner, vol. v. WHAT! shall I ne'er more see those halcyon days! Those sunny Sabbaths! days of jubilee! Wherein I carolled merry roundelays, Odes, and love songs? which, being viewed by thee, When we, on shepherds' holy days have hied Down to the flowery pastures (flowers, for thy treading fit!) Holy the day, when thou it sanctified! When thou, Zepheria, wouldst but deign to bless it, How have I, jealous over Phoebus' rays, Clouded thy fair! Then, fearing he would guess it But, woe is me! that I have fenced thy beauty! HENCE CARE! From Thomas Morley's First Book of Ballets, 1595. Now is best leisure To take our pleasure. Fa la la! All things invite us Now to delight us. Fa la la! Hence care be packing, No mirth be lacking. Fa la la! Let spare no treasure To live in pleasure. Fa la la! THE MONTH OF MAYING. NOW is the month of maying, When merry lads are playing The spring clad all in gladness The nymphs tread out their ground. Fie then, why sit we musing, Fa la la! BROWN IS MY LOVE. From the Second Book of Musica Transalpina, 1597. BROWN is my Love, but graceful; And each renowned whiteness Matched with thy lovely brown loseth its brightness. Fair is my Love, but scornful; Yet have I seen despisèd Dainty white lilies, and sad flowers well prizèd. COME AWAY! COME, SWEET LOVE! From John Dowland's First Book of Songs or Airs, 1597; reprinted in Arber's Garner, vol. iv. COME away! come, sweet love! The golden morning breaks; All the earth, all the air, Of love and pleasure speaks! And mix our souls in mutual bliss! Come away! come, sweet love! Beauty's grace, that should rise Lilies on the river's side, And fair Cyprian flowers new-blown, Ornament is nurse of pride, Pleasure, measure love's delight, Haste then, sweet love, our wishèd flight! L MADRIGAL. From Wilbye's Madrigals, 1598. ADY, when I behold the roses sprouting, Which, clad in damask mantles, deck the arbours, And then behold your lips, where sweet love harbours, My eyes present me with a double doubting: For viewing both alike, hardly my mind supposes, Whether the roses be your lips, or your lips the roses. I SAW MY LADY WEEP. From Dowland's Second Book of Songs or Airs, 1600. I SAW my lady weep, And Sorrow proud to be advanced so In those fair eyes where all perfections keep. But such a woe, believe me, as wins more hearts Sorrow was there made fair, And passion wise; tears a delightful thing; And all things with so sweet a sadness move O fairer than aught else The world can show, leave off in time to grieve. O strive not to be excellent in woe, Which only breeds your beauty's overthrow. LOVE AND MAY. From T. Morley's Madrigals, 1600. NOW is the gentle season, freshly flowering, To sing, and play, and dance, while May endureth, The fields abroad with spangled flowers are gilded, In May each bush arrayèd, and sweet wild roses. The nightingale her bower hath gaily builded, And full of kindly lust and loves inspiring, LOVE'S REALITIES. From Robert Jones' First Book of Songs and Airs, 1601. HEN love on time and measure makes his ground, WHEN Time that must end, though love can never die, 'Tis love betwixt a shadow and a sound, A love not in the heart but in the eye; Sweet looks show love, yet they are but as beams: Looks, words, tears, sighs show love when love they leave; 1 closes, gardens. The music in the original text shows that the composer had this apparently defective line before him. |