Lyrics from the Song-Books of the Elizabethan Age - LightNovelsOnl.com
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O say, dear life, when shall these twin-born berries, So lovely-ripe, by my rude lips be tasted?
Shall I not pluck (sweet, say not _nay_) those cherries?
O let them not with summer's heat be blasted.
Nature, thou know'st, bestow'd them free on thee; Then be thou kind--bestow them free on me.
From JOHN FARMER's _First Set of English Madrigals_, 1599.
O stay, sweet love; see here the place of sporting; These gentle flowers smile sweetly to invite us, And chirping birds are hitherwards resorting, Warbling sweet notes only to delight us: Then stay, dear Love, for though thou run from me, Run ne'er so fast, yet I will follow thee.
I thought, my love, that I should overtake you; Sweet heart, sit down under this shadowed tree, And I will promise never to forsake you, So you will grant to me a lover's fee.
Whereat she smiled and kindly to me said-- I never meant to live and die a maid.
From THOMAS MORLEY's _Madrigals_, 1594.
O sweet, alas, what say you?
Ay me, that face discloses The scarlet blush of sweet vermilion roses.
And yet, alas, I know not If such a crimson staining Be for love or disdaining; But if of love it grow not, Be it disdain conceived To see us of love's fruits so long bereaved.
From THOMAS CAMPION's _Third Book of Airs_ (circ. 1613).
O sweet delight, O more than human bliss With her to live that ever loving is!
To hear her speak whose words are so well placed That she by them, as they by her are graced!
Those looks to view that feast the viewer's eye, How blest is he that may so live and die!
Such love as this the Golden Times did know, When all did reap and none took care to sow; Such love as this an endless summer makes, And all distaste from frail affection takes.
So loved, so blest in my beloved am I: Which till their eyes ache let iron men envy!
From ROBERT JONES' _Ultimum Vale or Third Book of Airs_ (1608).
Oft have I mused the cause to find Why Love in lady's eyes should dwell; I thought, because himself was blind, He look'd that they should guide him well: And sure his hope but seldom fails, For Love by ladies' eyes prevails.
But time at last hath taught me wit, Although I bought my wit full dear; For by her eyes my heart is. .h.i.t, Deep is the wound though none appear: Their glancing beams as darts he throws, And sure he hath no shafts but those.
I mused to see their eyes so bright, And little thought they had been fire; I gazed upon them with delight, But that delight hath bred desire: What better place can Love desire Than that where grow both shafts and fire?
From JOHN ATTYE's _First Book of Airs_, 1622.
On a time the amorous Silvy Said to her shepherd, 'Sweet, how do you?
Kiss me this once, and then G.o.d be wi' you, My sweetest dear!
Kiss me this once and then G.o.d be wi' you, For now the morning draweth near.'
With that, her fairest bosom showing, Opening her lips, rich perfumes blowing, She said, 'Now kiss me and be going, My sweetest dear!
Kiss me this once and then be going, For now the morning draweth near.'
With that the shepherd waked from sleeping, And, spying where the day was peeping, He said, 'Now take my soul in keeping, My sweetest dear!
Kiss me, and take my soul in keeping, Since I must go, now day is near.'
From ROBERT JONES' _First Book of Songs and Airs_, 1601.
Once did I love and yet I live, Though love and truth be now forgotten; Then did I joy, now do I grieve That holy vows must now be broken.
Hers be the blame that caused it so, Mine be the grief though it be mickle;[12]
She shall have shame, I cause to know What 'tis to love a dame so fickle.
Love her that list, I am content For that chameleon-like she changeth, Yielding such mists as may prevent My sight to view her when she rangeth.
Let him not vaunt that gains my loss, For when that he and time hath proved her, She may him bring to Weeping-Cross: I say no more, because I loved her.
[12] Old ed., "little"
From HENRY YOULL's _Canzonets to Three Voices_, 1608.
Once I thought to die for love, Till I found that women prove Traitors in their smiling: They say men unconstant be, But they themselves Jove change, we see, And all is but beguiling.
From THOMAS WEELKES' _Madrigals_, 1597
Our country-swains in the morris dance Thus woo and win their brides, Will for our town the hobby horse At pleasure frolic rides: I woo with tears and ne'er the near, I die in grief and live in fear.
From GILES FARNABY's _Canzonets_, 1598.
Pierce did love fair Petronel Because she sang and danced well And gallantly could prank it; He pulled her and he haul'd her And oftentimes he call'd her Primrose pearls p.r.i.c.k'd in a blanket.
From FRANCIS PILKINGTON's _First Set of Madrigals and Pastorals_, 1613.
Pour forth, mine eyes, the fountains of your tears; Break, heart, and die, for now no hope appears; Hope, upon which before my thoughts were fed, Hath left me quite forlorn and from me fled.
Yet, see, she smiles! O see, some hope appears!
Hold, heart, and live; mine eyes, cease off your tears.
From _Airs sung and played at Brougham Castle_, 1618, by GEORGE MASON and JOHN EARSDEN.
Robin is a lovely lad, No la.s.s a smoother ever had; Tommy hath a look as bright As is the rosy morning light; Tib is dark and brown of hue, But like her colour firm and true; Jenny hath a lip to kiss Wherein a spring of nectar is; Simkin well his mirth can place And words to win a woman's grace; Sib is all in all to me, There is no Queen of Love but she.
From THOMAS RAVENSCROFT's _Brief Discourse_, 1614.
THE SATYRS' DANCE.
Round-a, round-a, keep your ring: To the glorious sun we sing,-- Ho, ho!
