V 
 
Cornell University Library 
 PR 1207.B93M8 
 
 More lyrics from *he song-bM^^^ ^ 
 
The original of tliis book is in 
 tlie Cornell University Library. 
 
 There are no known copyright restrictions in 
 the United States on the use of the text. 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/cu31 92401 3294297 
 
MORE LYRICS 
 
 FROM THE SONG-BOOKS OF THE 
 ELIZABETHAN AGE. 
 
Note. — Seven hundred and fifty copies of this 
 edition printed for England and America, each of 
 which is numbered as issued. 
 
 No. h-o 1+ 
 
MORE LYRICS 
 
 FROM THE SONG-BOOKS OF THE 
 ELIZABETHAN AGE: 
 
 , EDI-qED BY 
 
 A^' h/ BtJLLEN. 
 
 LONDON : 
 
 JOHN C. NIMMO, 
 
 14, King William Street, Strand, W.C. 
 
 1888. 
 
/{'l.¥^2J^ 
 
 CORNELL 
 
 s^ LIBRARY ^-/' 
 
 CHISWICK PRESS :— C. WHITTINGHAM AND CO., TOOKS COURT, 
 CHANCERY LANE. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 SOME months ago I issued a collection of 
 " Lyrics from the Song-books of the Ehza- 
 bethan Age," which was intended to serve as a 
 companion volume to the Poetical Miscellanies 
 published in England at the close of the sixteenth 
 and the beginning of the seventeenth centuries. 
 As many of the choicest poems in that collection 
 were unknown even to specialists, I was confident 
 that the value of my anthology would be recognized ; 
 and my expectations were not deceived. While 
 the book was passing through the press I had 
 already begun to go over the ground again, and I 
 soon found that materials for a second collection — 
 equal in interest to the first — were growing upon 
 my hands. The present volume is not large, but it 
 represents no inconsiderable amount of labour and 
 research, for I have made it my aim to include 
 only such poems as are, in Izaak Walton's phrase, 
 " choicely good." I shall not reprint the two 
 volumes of my anthology in their present form; 
 but, pursuing my refining process, I shall discard 
 

 vi PREFACE. 
 
 about one-third of the contents of the two series, 
 and shall publish the remaining two-thirds in a 
 single volume for the use of that wider public to 
 which I have not hitherto appealed. 
 
 In the preface to the former collection I en- 
 deavoured to bring to notice the claims of a true 
 poet, who has been too long neglected — ^Thomas 
 Campion. It gives me pleasure to know that 
 my eiforts 'have been successful ; and I am con- 
 vinced that no future historians of English poetry 
 will venture, as their predecessors have done, to 
 ignore a lyrist who is worthy to rank with Shelley 
 ^and Bums. I have read Campion's song-books 
 
 any times, always with increased delight He 
 lolds among Elizabethan song-writers the place 
 ;hat is held by Meleager in the Greek Anthology : 
 for tenderness and for depth of feeling, for hap- 
 piness of phrase and for chaste artistic perfection, 
 he is supreme. One of his contemporaries, John 
 Davies of Hereford, who was himself a genuine 
 poet, though he wrote far too much and seldom 
 did himself justice, addressed to Campion a sonnet 
 which contains words of neat and appropriate 
 praise : — 
 
 " Never did lyrics' more than happy strains, 
 Strained out of Art by Nature so with ease. 
 So purely hit the moods and various veins 
 Of music and her hearers as do these. 
 So thou canst cure the body and the mind, 
 Rare doctor, with thy two-fold soundest art : 
 
PREFACE. vii 
 
 Hippocrates hath taught thee the one kind, 
 Apollo and the Muse the other part : 
 And both so well that thou with both dost please, 
 The mind with pleasure and the corps with ease." 
 
 " Strained out of Art by Nature so with ease ! " 
 Davies has here just hit the mark. As we read 
 Campion's lyrics we feel that the poet could with- 
 out effort beat out of our rough English speech 
 whatever music he chose. Whether he is pen- 
 sively contemplating the flight of Time (p. 19), or 
 treads the downs with the Fairy-queen Proserpina 
 (p. 42), or sings an epithalamium that Catullus 
 might have envied (p. 78), or falls prostrate at the 
 throne of grace (p. 1 26), — to every varying mood the 
 lyre-strings are responsive. Never a false or jarring 
 note ; no cheap tricks and mannerisms ; everywhere 
 ease and simplicity. From Campion's song-books ' I 
 
 * In the former collection I tentatively assigned the publi- 
 cation of Campion's "Third and Fourth Books of Airs" to 
 the year 1613. Mr. Barclay Squire, of the British Museum, 
 who has given me much friendly aid in my researches, points 
 out to me that the date of publication could not have been 
 earlier than 1617. The "Third Book" is dedicated to Sir 
 Thomas Mounson (or Monson), and in the dedicatory address 
 Campion writes : — ■ 
 
 ' ' Since now those clouds, that lately overcast 
 Your fame and fortune, are dispersed at last ; 
 And now since all to you fair greetings make, 
 Some out of love and some for pity's sake ; 
 Shall I but with a common style salute 
 Your new enlargement, or stand only mute ? 
 
viii PREFACE. 
 
 have again drawn freely, and I have also selected 
 some lyrics from his masques. It has sometimes 
 occurred to me that William Drummond of Haw- 
 thornden misquoted the remark made by Ben 
 Jonson on the subject of masque-writing. Jonson 
 is reported by Drummond to have said that " next 
 himself only Fletcher and Chapman could make a 
 masque." As Chapman had little abiUty in that 
 direction, it is far from improbable that Jonson 
 named not Chapman, but Campion. The two 
 names, spoken in conversation, are not very dis- 
 similar in sound, and Drummond may easily have 
 fallen into error. But be this as it may (and I 
 merely throw out the suggestion at a venture), no- 
 body who has read Campion's masques can fail to 
 be struck by their elegance and beauty. 
 
 Now a few words as to the unique books and MSS. 
 quoted in the present volume. To Mr. Halliwell- 
 Phillipps I am deeply indebted for permission to 
 
 I, to whose trust and care you durst commit 
 Your pined health ,when art despaired of it ? " 
 
 Mounson was examined in 1615 with reference to the 
 Overbury trial ; the warrant for his arrest was issued in 
 October, 1615 ; he was liberated on bail in October, 1616 ; 
 and his pardon was granted in February, 1616-17 (" Cal. 
 State Papers, Dom. i6n-l8"). His son, John Mounson, 
 to whom the "Fourth Book of Airs" is dedicated, was bom 
 in 1599. From Chamberlain's letters to Carlton it appears 
 that in 1618 the youth was endeavouring, without much 
 success, to ingratiate himself with King James. 
 
PREFACE. ix 
 
 include some charming songs from the unique copy 
 of Morley's "First Book of Airs," 1600, preserved 
 at HoUingbuiy Copse on the Sussex Downs. If, 
 instead of devoting painful years to the acquisition 
 of Shakespearean rarities, Mr. Halliwell-Phillipps 
 had started in pursuit of the philosopher's stone, I 
 am convinced that he would now be in possession of 
 the precious secret. Who at this time of day 
 would dream of finding the autograph of Shake- 
 speare's schoolmaster, Walter Roche ? or of John 
 Combe, to whom Shakespeare left his sword as a 
 mark of respect ? Yet here they are at Hollingbury 
 Copse j and here too are the title-deeds of New 
 Place, — the very parchment that Shakespeare held 
 in his hand. Here are a hundred rarities, each 
 of them as dilEcult to discover as the North-west 
 passage. And here is Morley's unique "First 
 Book of Airs" (not quite perfect unfortunately), 
 which contains the original music of " It was a 
 lover and his lass." 
 
 Another unique song-book, which has supplied 
 me with some choice lyrics, is Martin Peerson's 
 "Private Music," 1620. It belongs to the Douce 
 collection in the Bodleian Library. From this 
 book I have taken the sweet and tender lullaby 
 " Upon my lap my sovereign sits ; " the graceful 
 and playful dialogue — " Open the door 1 Who's 
 there within ? " — between an eager wooer and 
 a discreet maid; the lover's lament for his 
 
X PREFACE. 
 
 mistress' fickleness (p. 15), and other dainty little 
 songs. 
 
 There is one song-book which I have sought early 
 and late without success — Robert Jones' "The 
 Muses' Garden of Delights," 161 o. In 1812a copy 
 was in the library of the Marquis of Stafford ; and 
 in that year Beloe printed six songs from it in 
 the sixth volume of his " Anecdotes." These six 
 songs I have included in the present collection ; 
 and they are so delightful that I am consumed 
 with a desire to see the rest of the contents of 
 the song-book. Marble-hearted must have been 
 the maid who could turn a deaf ear to the appeal 
 beginning : — 
 
 *' How many new years have grown old 
 Since first your servant old was new ! 
 How many long hours have I told 
 Since first my love was vowed to you ! 
 And yet, alas ! she doth not know 
 Whether her servant love or no. " 
 
 Surely this is the very perfection of song-writing. 
 No less perfect, in a sprightlier vein, is the sobered 
 lover's humorous description of the life he had led 
 under love's thraldom : — 
 
 " Once did my thoughts both ebb and flow, 
 
 As passion did them move ; 
 Once did I hope, straight fear again, — 
 
 And then I was in love ; " 
 
 or the ironical farewell to Cupid : — 
 
PREFACE. xi 
 
 " Soft, Cupid, soft, there is no haste, 
 For all unkindness gone and past ; 
 Since thou wilt needs forsake me so. 
 Let us part friends before thou go." 
 
 A special favourite of mine (which I must quote 
 entire) is the warning to heedless youth : — 
 
 " The sea hath many thousand sands. 
 The sun hath motes as many ; 
 The sky is full of stars, and love 
 As fiill of woes as any : 
 Believe me, that do know the elf. 
 And make no trial by thyselt 
 
 It is in truth a pretty toy 
 
 For babes to play vidthal ; 
 
 But O the honies of our youth 
 
 Are oft our age's gall ! 
 
 Self-proof in time will make thee know 
 
 He was a prophet told thee so : 
 
 A prophet that, Cassandra-like, 
 
 Tells truth without belief; 
 
 For headstrong youth will run his race 
 
 Although his goal be grief; 
 
 Love's martyr, when his heat is past. 
 
 Proves Care's confessor at the last." 
 
 I trust that I may yet be able to trace the missing 
 volume, but hitherto my inquiries have been fruit- 
 less. The Royal College of Music possesses one 
 unique book of Robert Jones — his "Ultimum 
 Vale," 1608 — from which I quoted in my former 
 collection, and which I have again consulted for 
 the present series ; but many of the choicest 
 
xii PREFACE. 
 
 poems in that song-book were printed in Davison's 
 " Poetical Rhapsody." 
 
 From early MS. music-books I have also drawn 
 freely. Of these there is a large and important 
 collection in the library of Christ Church, Oxford ; 
 and I desire to thank the college authorities^ for 
 their kindness in allowing me to make selections 
 from their treasures. It is of course difficult in 
 dealing with MS. poetry to determine whether any 
 particular poem is already in print or is absolutely 
 new. The quantity of printed verse of the early seven- 
 teenth century is so large that one can seldom 
 pronounce with certainty that such and such poems 
 are inaccessible. I have examined many scores of 
 volumes of Elizabethan and Jacobean poems, and 
 my experience has shown me that nine-tenths of 
 the contents of these MS. collections are extant in 
 printed copies. Hereafter I intend to publish the 
 results of my explorations in this attractive field 
 of research, though I dare not venture to hope 
 that my labours will be crowned with very brilliant 
 success. But to return to the Christ Church 
 MSS. I have chosen from that collection four- 
 teen songs. All of them (so far as my present 
 knowledge goes) — with the exception of "Are 
 women fair and are they sweet? "which is a varia- 
 tion of a poem found in Davison's "Poetical 
 
 ' I have particularly to thank the courteous librarian, Rev. 
 T. Vere Bayne. 
 
PREFACE. xiii 
 
 Rhapsody " — are published for the first time. The 
 noble verses beginning "Yet if his majesty our 
 sovereign lord," cannot fail to attract the reader's 
 attention. I doubt whether it would be possible 
 for me to have lost memory of that poem if I had 
 ever seen it in print. Verse so stately, so simple, 
 so flawless, is not lightly forgotten. The detailed 
 description of the preparations made by a loyal 
 subject for the coming of his " earthly king " is 
 marvellously impressive. Few could have dealt 
 with common household objects — tables and chairs 
 and candles and the rest — in so dignified a spirit. 
 Our poet has triumphed over the difficulties : — 
 
 " • Set me fine Spanish tables in the hall, 
 
 See they be fitted all ; 
 
 Let there be room to eat, 
 
 And order taken that there want no meat. 
 
 See every sconce and candlestick made bright, 
 
 That without tapers they may give a light. 
 
 Look to the presence : are the carpets spread, 
 
 The dais o'er the head, 
 
 The cushions in the chairs. 
 
 And all the candles lighted on the stairs ? 
 
 Perfume the chamber, and in any case 
 
 Let each man give attendance in his place.'" 
 
 It would be hard to improve on that description. 
 Then the contrast between these preparations made 
 for an earthly king and the reception provided for 
 the King of Heaven ! — 
 
 " But at the coming of the King of Heaven 
 
 All's set at six and seven : 
 
xiv PREFACE. 
 
 We wallow in our sin, 
 Christ cannot find a chamber in the inn. 
 We entertain him always like a stranger. 
 And as at first still lodge him in the manger." 
 
 The volume which contains this fine poem has 
 more than one lyric, set to music, of Henry 
 Vaughan the Silurist. Am I right in surmising 
 that this unpublished poem is also by Vaughan? 
 I know no other devotional poet who could have 
 written it. But, whether it be Vaughan's or not, I 
 am glad to include it in my anthology. I trust 
 that the other Christ Church songs will also be 
 acceptable. The odd little snatch "Hey nonny 
 no!/ Men are fools that wish to die!" almost 
 takes one's breath away by the vehemence of its 
 rapture. " Daphnis came on a summer's day" is 
 as good as the best things in Bateson's madrigals 
 (no slight praise), and "Are you that she than 
 whom no fairer is?" might have come from one of 
 Robert Jones' song-books. The frog's wooing of 
 the crab {" There was a frog swum in the lake ") is 
 a capital piece of fooling, almost worthy to rank 
 with Ravenscroft's "It was the frog in the well." 
 It was set to music by Alfonso Ferrabosco, but is 
 not found in that composer's printed " Airs." The 
 song "Where would coy Aminta run?" seems to be 
 familiar, but I have not yet been able to trace it. 
 Of James Hart, who composed the music, I can 
 find no particulars. 
 
PREFACE. XV 
 
 From my examination of the Christ Church 
 MSS. I have been able, besides giving new matter, 
 to record variations in the text of printed songs. 
 Thus, in Bateson's " If I seek to enjoy the fruits of 
 my pain," I have not only improved the text of the 
 printed copy by reference to the MS. copy, but I 
 have restored three verses which Bateson had 
 entirely omitted. More important are the varia- 
 tions in Campion's " I must complain, yet do enjoy 
 my love," where the second and third stanzas of 
 the MS. copy (see p. 155) differ entirely from the 
 printed text. 
 
 I had hoped to discover some choice new songs 
 among the MSS. in the Music School at Oxford, 
 but I found that almost everything of interest was 
 accessible in printed collections. Still I contrived 
 to glean a few snatches. My researches among 
 the MS. music-books in the British Museum were 
 hardly more successful. The dialogue between 
 End3rmion and Phoebe — "Lovely shepherd, ope 
 thine eye" — was indeed well worth rescuing from 
 obscurity. If it has been printed before, I must 
 apologize to the more learned reader for my igno- 
 rance. The pretty cradle-song, "My little sweet 
 darling, my comfort and joy," set to music by 
 William Byrd, is not found in any of the composer's 
 printed song-books; nor do I remember to have 
 met "Phillis, a herd-maid dainty," which reads like 
 a translation of an Italian madrigal, 
 b 
 
xvi PREFACE. 
 
 It will be seen that I have selected half-a-dozen 
 songs from Dr. John Wilson's "Cheerful Airs," 
 published at Oxford in 1660. Those who are not 
 acquainted with Wilson's "Airs" may think that I 
 have stepped out of my proper period in quoting 
 from a book of that late date j but I assure them 
 that the poetry belongs almost entirely to Eliza- 
 bethan or Jacobean times. The same remark 
 applies to John Forbes' " Cantus," first published 
 at Aberdeen in 1661, which is largely composed of 
 songs from the collections of Campion, Dowland, 
 Jones, and others. From Forbes I have taken 
 only one poem (" Joy to the person of my love"), 
 the text of which I have corrected from a MS. copy 
 preserved in the Advocates' Library at Edinburgh. 
 
 In the former series I gave copious extracts from 
 Dowland's song-books ; and I have quoted largely 
 from them in the present volume. William Corkine 
 and Francis Pilkington are again among the leading 
 contributors; nor have I neglected John Attey 
 and Alfonso Ferrabosco (the friend of Ben Jonson 
 and composer of the music to " Come, my Celia"). 
 From John Danyel's "Songs," 1606, 1 have chosen 
 the singularly fine devotional poem "If I could 
 shut the gate against my thoughts," the address to 
 "Time, cruel Time," and some verse of lighter 
 quality. William Byrd is again represented, chiefly 
 in his meditative mood. One sonnet (" Those eyes 
 that set my fancy on a fire") is taken from that 
 
PREFACE. xvii 
 
 very rare book — preserved under glass in a show- 
 case at the British Museum — William Barley's 
 " New Book of Tabliture," 1596. The conclusion 
 of this sonnet is in the great Elizabethan style : — 
 
 " O eyes that pierce our hearts without remorse ! 
 
 O hairs of right that wear a royal crown ! 
 O hands that conquer more than Caesar's force ! 
 
 O wit that turns huge kingdoms upside down! " 
 
 \ 
 
 Many volumes of selected sonnets have been 
 published in recent years ; but you may search them 
 all without finding this sonnet from Barley's " New 
 Book of Tabliture." 
 
 I need not describe at greater length the contents 
 of the present volume ; but I wish to say a few 
 words in regard to the plan on which my antho- 
 logy has been put together. The reader must 
 clearly understand that the present collection 
 and its predecessor do not for a moment claim 
 to be a representative anthology of the whole 
 wealth of Elizabethan lyrical poetry. I have con- 
 ducted the reader through only one tract of 
 those wonderful Realms of Gold. I have avoided 
 well-beaten highways and have preferred to guide 
 him by lonely paths through shy coverts. It is 
 solely with the old song-books, the music-books, 
 that I have dealt. Some of these are extant only 
 in unique exemplars preserved in the library of the 
 British Museum, the Bodleian, the library of the 
 
xviii PREFACE. 
 
 Royal College of Music,* or in private libraries : for 
 others I have had to go to MSS. in the British 
 Museum and at Oxford. I can say with a clear con- 
 science that, in order to make my anthology as in- 
 teresting as possible, I have shirked no labour, and 
 that I have tried to keep the standard of excellence 
 in all cases high. Well-known poems, or poems that 
 ought to be well known, I have avoided. For in- 
 stance I have not included such a poem as " His 
 golden locks Time hath to silver turn'd," which is 
 set to music in Dowland's " First Book;" for it was 
 written by George Peele (perhaps the best thing he 
 wrote) and is familiar to the generality of readers. 
 Again, I have omitted "Shall I tell you whom I 
 love?" which is found in John Attey's "Airs," 
 1622 ; for the author was William Browne, and I 
 take it for granted that " Britannia's Pastorals " is a 
 well-thumbed classic. Yet I must own that I have 
 not been quite consistent ; for the reader will find 
 a sonnet (set to music by Martin Peerson) taken 
 from Sidney's "Arcadia," and a short poem (from 
 Dowland's " First Book ") that was printed in 1630 
 among the "Works" of Fulke Greville, Lord 
 Brooke. A few of the poems in the present volume 
 are also to be found in Davison's "Poetical 
 Rhapsody." 
 
 ' I should be ungrateful if I neglected to acknowledge 
 the courtesy that I received from Sir George Grove, the 
 distinguished director of that excellent institution. 
 
PREFACE. xix 
 
 Eloquar an sileam ? Song-writing is now almost 
 as completely a lost art as play-writing. Our poets, 
 who ought to make " music and sweet poetry agree," 
 leave the writing of songs to meaner hands. Con- 
 trast the poor thin wretched stuff that one hears to- 
 day in drawing-rooms with the rich full-throated 
 songs of Campion and Dowland. O what a fall is 
 there, rny countrymen ! In Elizabethan times 
 music was " married to immortal verse." Let us 
 hope that the present separation will not always 
 continue. 
 
INDEX OF FIRST LINES. 
 
INDEX OF FIRST LINES. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 A FEIGNED friend by prooflfifid ( William Byrd) . 
 ^J. A stranger herCy as all tny fathers were {.John Antner) 
 Ak nie ! my wonted joys forsake 7ne i^Tkonias IVeelkes) . . 
 Ah sweet, alas ! ivhen first I saw those eyes (George Kirhye^ 
 Ambitious love hath forced me to aspire (William Byrd) . . , 3 
 
 A nd is it night ? are they thine eyes that shine (Robert Jones) , . 3 
 And think ye, nymphs, to scorn at Love (William Byrd) . . » . ^ 
 Are women fair and are they sweet (Christ Church MS.) .... ^ 
 Are you what your fair looks express (Thomas Campion) . 
 Art thou that she than whom no fairer is (Christ Church MS.) . t 
 At her fair hands how have I grace entreated (Robert Jones) . . 5 
 Awake, sweet lovei thou art returned (John Dowland) . . . . g 
 Awake, thou spring of speakiftg grace ! tnute rest becomes not thee 
 
 (Thomas Campion) . 
 
 Ay me, she frowns ; my mistress is offended (Francis Pilkington) 
 
 Be thou then my Beauty named (Thomas Campion) . . . 
 
 Beauty is but a painted hell (ThoTnas Campion) 
 
 Blame not my cheeks, though pale with love they be (Cajnpion and 
 
 Rosseter) . . 
 
 Blush, my rude present ; blushing, yet say this (Thomas Vautor) 
 Buzz, buzz, buzz (Add. MS.) 
 
 Ill 
 
 13 
 
 Camellafair tripped der the plain (Thomas Bateson) . . , 
 
 Can a maid that is well bred (Martin Peersofi) 
 
 Care for thy soul as thing of greatest price [William Byrd) . 
 Cease, troubled thoughts, to sigh or sigh yourselves to death (Robert 
 
 Jones) 17 
 
 Change me, O heavens, into the ruby stone (John Wilbye) 
 Come away, armed with lovers delights (Thomas Campion) . 
 Come, cheefful day, part of my life to me (Thomas Campion) 
 Come, lusty ladies, come, come, come (Christ Church MS.) . 
 
 Come, pretty wag, attd sing (Martin PeersotC) 
 
 Come, Sorrow, come, sit down and mottrn with me ( Thomas Morley) 
 
INDEX OF FIRST LINES. 
 
 ComCt ye heavy states of night {John Dowland) . 
 Content thysel/with thy estate {Richard CarUon) 
 Cupid, in a bed oj" roses {Thomas Baieson) . . . 
 
 Daphnis came on a summer's day {Christ Church MS.) 
 Dear, do not your fair beauty wrong {Musica AniigueC) 
 Deceitjul fancy, why delud'st thou me {John Coperario) 
 
 Did ever man thus love as I {Robert Jones) 
 
 Disdain me still that I may ever love {John Dowland) 
 Disdain, that so doth fill me {Robert Jones) . 
 Do not, O do not prize thy beauty at too high a rate {Robert Jones) 
 DrffOin not with tears, my dearest Love {Alfonso Ferrabosco) 
 
 Fain I would, but oh I dare not {Alfonso Ferrabosco) . 
 Fain would I my love disclose {Thomas Ca?npion) 
 Fair Hebe, when dame Flora meets {Thomas Baieson) 
 Fair is my love, my dear and only jewel {Michael Este) 
 Fair is the rose, yet fades with heat or cold {Orlajido Gibbons) 
 Fair women like fair jewels are {Robert Jones) . . . 
 Farewell, dear love! since thou wilt needs be gone {Robert Jones) 
 Fie, fie, fie! what a coil is here {Robert Jones) . , . 
 Flow 7iot so fast, ye fountains {John Dowland ) . . . 
 Follow thy fair sun, unhappy shadow {Campion and Rosseter) . 
 Fond Love is blind, blind therefore lovers be {Thomas Bateson) . 
 Fondness of man to love a she {Dr. John Wilson) . . . . 
 
 Got nightly cares, the enemy to rest {John Dowland) . . 
 Greedy lover, pause awhile {Dr. John Wilson) 
 
 Harden now thy tired heart with more thanflinfy rage {Thomas 
 
 Campion) 
 
 Hark, all you ladies that do sleep {(tampion and Rosseter) 
 
 Heigh ho {Pammelia) 
 
 Her fair inflaming eyes { Thomas Campi<m) . . . . 
 Her hair the net of golden wire {Thomas Bateson) . 
 
 Hey nonny no {Christ Church MS.) 
 
 Hold, cruel Love, O hold! I yield {MS. Mus. Sch.) . . . 
 How eaily weri thou chained {Thomas Campion) . . 
 How many new years have grown old {Robert Jones) . . 
 
 I care not for these ladies {Campion and Rosseter) . . . 
 I heard a noise and wished for a sight {Thomas Bateson) . 
 / heard of late that Love wasfalVn asleep {John Bartlet) 
 I know not what, yet that I feel is tnuck {Robert Jones) 
 I must complaint yet do enjoy my love {Thomas Campion) 
 
INDEX OF FIRST LINES, xxv 
 
 PAGE 
 
 1/ 1 couid skut t/ie gate against my thoughts {John Dofiyel) . . 52 
 
 I/I seek to &ijoy the fruits oftnypain iXhotnas Batesofi) . * . 53 
 
 If in thine heart thoit nourish ill {William Byrd) . .... 54 
 
 If love loves truth then women do not love (Thomas Campiojt) . . 54 
 
 If she forsake me, I fnust die {Campion a$td Rosseter) 53 
 
 If when I die, to Hell's eterfial shade {MS. Mus. Sch.) . . 56 
 
 If women can. be courteous when they list {Richard Carlton) ... 56 
 
 In a grove of trees of myrtle {John A ttey) 56 
 
 Infields abroad, where trumpets shrill do sound {William Byrd), 57 
 
 Is not that my fancy's Queen {Martin Peerson) 58 
 
 It fell on a summer's day {Campion and Rosseter) .... .59 
 
 Joy in thy hoPe, the earnest of thy love {Robert Jones) 
 Joy to the person of my love {John Forbes) .... 
 
 60 
 61 
 
 Lais, now old, that erst attempting lass {Orlando Gibbons) . "Bs^urX 
 
 Let dread of pain for sin in after-iifne {Thomas Greaves) ... 63 
 
 Let not thy blackness move thee to despair {Christ Church MS.) . 64 
 
 Lie down, poor heart, and die awhile for grief {Robert Jones) . 64 
 
 Like as the gentle heart itself bewrays {Richard Carlton) .... 65 
 
 Lock up, fair lids, the treasitre ofm.y heart (Martin Peerson) . . 66 
 
 Love her no more, herself she doth not love {Martin Peerson) . 66 
 
 Love, if a God thou art {Robert Jofies) 67 
 
 Love in thy youth, fair maid; be wise {Walter Porter) .... 67 
 
 Love me or not, love her I must or die {Thomas Campior^ 68 
 
 Lovely shepherd, ope thine eye {Add. MS:) 68 
 
 Mistress mine, well may you fare {Thomas Morley) 70 
 
 Mourn, mourn ! day is with darkness fled {John Dowland) . . 71 
 
 Music, some think, no ynusic is {Thomas Bateson) '5*4. 7 2- 
 
 My complaining is but feigning {Robert Jones) 73 
 
 My little sweet darlijtg, my comfort and joy {Add, MS.) .... 72 
 
 My mistress after service due {Thomas Bateson) 73 
 
 My sins are like the hairs upon my head {Christ Church MS.) . , 73 
 
 Nay, let me weep, though others' tears be spent {Orlando Gibbons) , 74 
 
 Neither buskin now, nor bays {Thomas Cajnpiou) 75 
 
 Noell, adieu, adieu I thou Court's delight {Thomas WeeVces) . 76 
 
 Novo cease, my wand' riftg eyes {John Dowland) . ... '. . 76 
 
 Now, Cupid, look ctbout thee { Thomas Robinson) 77 
 
 Now hath Flora robbed her bowers {Thomas Campion) 78 
 
 Now peep, bo-peep^ thrice happy blest mine eyes {Francis Pilkington) 79 
 
 O lo-ve, where are thy shafts, thy quiver, and thy bow {Thomas 
 Campion) . . . . . . . 
 
 So 
 
xxvi INDEX OF FI/dST LINES. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 O my poor eyes^ ike sun whose shine (Robert Jones) 8i 
 
 O precious time, created By the fnigkt {Martin Peerson) . . . 82 
 
 O sweet flower t too quickly fading ( John Coperario) 82 
 
 O what hath overwrought (John Dowland) •83 
 
 Of Neptune's empire let us sing {Thomas Campion) 84 
 
 On a fair mornings as I came by the way { Thomas Moriey) . . 85 
 
 Once did my thoughts both ebb and flow {Robert Jones') ... 85 
 
 One woman scarce of twenty ( Thomas Bateson) 86 
 
 Open the door! IVko's there within {Martin Peerson) 87 
 
 Perplexed sore am. I (Robert Jones) ... 88 
 
 Phillis, a herd-maid dainty {Add. MS.) 88 
 
 Reprove not love^ though fondly thou hast lost (Campion and 
 
 Rosseter) 89 
 
 Respect my fiith, regard my service past (Thomas Campion) , . go 
 
 Rest awhilet you cruel cares (John Dowland") go 
 
 Say f fond Love, what seeks thou here (Add. MS.) gi 
 
 Sayy Love, if ever thou didst find (John Dowland) . . -92 
 
 See where she flies enraged front me (Campion and Rosseter) . . 93 
 
 See where Mty love a-jnayi9tggoes (Francis Pilkington) . . . 94 
 Shall a smile or guileful glance (William Corkine) ... -94 
 
 Shall I be with joys deceived {William. Corkine) . . . . . gs 
 
 Since just disdain began to rise (Robert Jones) g5 
 
 Sing, merry blrds^ your cheerful notes {Robert Jones) ... .96 
 
 Sly tMef if so you will believe (Michael Este) 96 
 
 So guickf so hot; so mad is tkyfond suit (Thomets Campion) , . 97 
 
 So saith my fair and beautiful Lycoris (Musica Transaipijui) . • 98 
 
 So sweet is thy discourse to me (Thomas Cam^pion) 98 
 
 Soft, Cupid, soft, there is no haste (Robert Jones) gg 
 
 Sometime she would and sometime not (Giles Famaby) .... 99 
 
 Stay, Corydon, thou swain (John Wilbye) 100 
 
 Sweet Gemma, when I first beheld thy beauty (Thomas Bateson) . 100 
 
 Sweet, if you like and love me still (Robert Jones') loi 
 
 Sweett let me got sweet, lei me go (William Corkine) . . 102 
 
 Sweet, those tmtnmels of your hair (Thomas Bateson) . . 102 
 
 Sweet, yet cruel unkind is she (Christ Church MS.) .... 103 
 
 Tell me, O Love^ when shall it be (Alfo?tso Ferrabosco) .... 103 
 
 The (^press curtain of the night is spread (Campion and Rosseter) 104 
 
 The eagle's force subdues each bird thai flies (William Byrd). , 105 
 
 The fountains smoke and yet no flames they show (Robert Jones) . 105 
 
 The Gordian knot, which A lexander great (John A ttey) . ^ . 106 
 
 The greedy wretch that surfeiis on his gold {Christ Church MS.) 107 
 
INDEX OF FIRST LINES. xxvii 
 
 PAGE 
 
 The nightingale in silent night {Thomas Bateson) . .... 107 
 
 The Queen of PaphoSy Erycine {John Bartlei) . . . . . 107 
 
 The sea hath many thousand sands {Robert Jones) .... . 108. 
 
 The spring of joy is dry {Martin Peerson) logi 
 
 The 'witless hoy that blind is to behold {Richard Carltoti) . . . iic| 
 
 Tlure is none, O none bntyou {Thomas Caynpion) iia 
 
 There luas a frog swum in tiie lake {Christ Church MS ^ . . . iii 
 
 Thine eyes so bright {Robert Jones) ..... iiq 
 
 Those eyes that set my fancy on afire ( William Barley) .... 11^ 
 
 TJwse spots upon my lady s face appearing {Thomas Weelkes) , . 113 
 
 Tlwu joyest^fond boy, to he by many loved {Thomas Cavipioii) . . 113 
 
 Thou sent'st to jne a heart was crowrted {MS, Mus. Sch.) . ii-i 
 
 Though 7fte you disdain to view {John Hilton) .11^ 
 
 Though you areyouitg and I am old {Campion and Rosseter) . . iie 
 
 Three times a day my prayer is [Thomas Weelkes) . . • uf 
 
 Thnle, the period of cosmography {Thomas Weelkes) i\i 
 
 Thyrsis and Milla, arm in arm together { Thomas Morley) ... i if 
 
 Titne, cruel Time, canst thou subdue that brow {John Danyel) . 113 
 
 Tirne's eldest son. Old Age, the heir of Ease {John Do-wland) . . ii£ 
 
 *' To bed, to bed!" she calls and never ceaseth {Michael Este) . . iic 
 
 To-7norrow is the -marriage-day {Thomas Weelkes) nc 
 
 To 7nvsic bent is m.y retired miTid {Thomas Cam.piofi) 12c 
 
 Trust 7wt too much, fair youth, unto thy feature {OrlaTtdo Gibbons) 12c 
 
 Truth-tryijig Time shall cause my mistress say ( William Corkitie) 1 2 ] 
 
 Turn back, you wanton flyer {Campion and Rosseter) . . . 121 
 
 Turn in, my Lord, tzim into me {Christ Churc& MS.) .... 12: 
 
 UnkiJid, is this the 7need of lovers* pain {Thomas Vautor) ... 12; 
 
 Unquiet thottghts, your civil slaughter stint {John Dowland) . J12; 
 
 Upon my lap my sovereign sits {Martin Peerson) 12^ 
 
 Veil, Love, mine eyes! O hide from vie {Thomas Campiofi) . . 12; 
 
 Victorious Time, whose winged feet do fly {Christ Church MS.^ . i2t 
 
 View me. Lord, a work of Thine {Thomas Campion) izt 
 
 Were I made juror of that guest {Add. MS.) 12; 
 
 W/iat delight can they enjoy {John Danyel) 12J 
 
 Whatif I seek for love of thee {Robert Jones) ttI 
 
 What is it all that men possess, ajnong themselves conversing 
 
 {Thomas Campion) T2c 
 
 What saith my dainty darling {Thomas Morley) , . . .13^ 
 
 What would any man desire {Dr. John Wilson) 13] 
 
 When from. m.y love I looked for love a7td kind affection's due 
 
 {John Bartlct) . . 13: 
 
 Wlteti J behold my inistress* face {Dr. J ohn Wilson) . ... 13: 
 
xxviii INDEX OF FIRST LINES. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 IVhen I sit reading all alone ikat secret hook {Robert Jones) . . 133 
 
 When I was horn Lucina cross-legged sate {William CorMne) . . 134 
 
 WUen love on time and measure makes his ground {Robert Jones) 134 
 
 When on -mine eyes her eyes first shone {Dr. John Wilson) . . . 135 
 
 When on my dear I do demand the due {Michael Este) .... 135 
 
 When the god of merry love {Campion and Rosseter) 136 
 
 When to her lute Corinna sings {Campion and Rosseter^ .... 136 
 
 When will the fiountainof my tears he dry {Robert Jones) . . . 137 
 
 Where Fancy fond for Pleasure pleads {Williant Byrd) .... 138 
 
 Where lingering fear doth once Possess the heart {Robert Jones) . 139 
 
 Where would coy Atmnia run {Christ Church MS,) 140 
 
 Who vows devotion to fair beauty's shrine {Richard Carlton) . . 141 
 
 Whoever thinks or ho^es of love for love {John Dowland) . . . 141 
 
 Why canst thou not, as others do {John Danyel) . . . • . 142 
 
 Will ye love me, lady sweet {Thomas Ravetiscroft) 143 
 
 Women, what are they ? Changing weathercocks {Robert Jones) , 143 
 
 Wounded I'am^ and dare not seek relief {Williatn Byrd) . . . 144 
 
 Yet if his majesty our sovereign lord {Christ Church MS.) . . . 145 
 Voti gentle nytnphs that on these meadows play {Francis Pilkingtott) 146 
 
 146 
 
 147 
 148. 
 149 
 149 
 
 You say you love tngy nay, can swear it too {Dr. John Wilson) 
 
 You that pine i7t long desire {Francis Pilkington^ 
 
 Young and simple though I am {Thomas Campion) .... 
 Young Cupid hath proclaimed a bloody war {Thomas Weelkes) 
 Your fair looks urge my desire {Thotnas Campion) 
 
MORE LYRICS FROM ELIZABETHAN 
 SONG-BOOKS. 
 
 Let well-tuned words amaze 
 With harmony divine. 
 
 Campion. 
 
MORE LYRICS FROM THE SONG-BOOKS 
 OF THE ELIZABETHAN AGE. 
 
 From William Bysd's Psalms, 
 Songs, and SonTieis, 1611. 
 
 A FEIGNED friend by proof I find 
 To be a greater foe 
 Than he that with a spiteful mind 
 
 Doth seek my overthrow ; 
 For of the one I can beware, 
 With craft the other breeds my care. 
 
 Such men are like the hidden rocks 
 
 Which in the seas doth lie, 
 Against the which each ship that knocks 
 
 Is drowned suddenly : 
 No greater fraud nor more unjust 
 Than false deceit hid under trust. 
 
MORE LYRICS FROM THE SONG-BOOKS 
 
 From John Amner's Sacred 
 Hymns, 1615. 
 
 A STRANGER here, as all my fathers were 
 That went before, I wander to and fro ; 
 From earth to heaven is my pilgrimage, 
 
 A tedious way for flesh and blood to go : 
 O Thou that art the way, pity the blind 
 And teach me how I may Thy dwelling find. 
 
 From Thomas Weelkes' Ma- 
 drigals, 1597. 
 
 AH me ! my wonted joys forsake me, 
 And deep despair doth overtake mej 
 I whilome sung, but now I weep : 
 Thus sorrows run, when joys do creep. 
 I wish to live, and yet I die ; 
 For love hath wrought my misery. 
 
 From George Kirbye's First Set 
 of English Madrigals, 1597. 
 
 A H sweet, alas ! when first I saw those eyes, 
 ■^*- Those eyes so rich with crystal majesty, 
 Their wounding beauty gan^ to tyrannise 
 
 And made mine eyes bleed tears full plenteously : 
 I felt the wound, yet feared I not the deed. 
 Till ah ! I found my tears did inward bleed. 
 
 ' Olded. , "gan (W«k) to tyrannyze." 
 
OF THE ELIZABETHAN AGE. 
 
 From WlLLfAM Byrd's Psalms, 
 SonTiets, and Songs, 1588. 
 
 A MBITIOUS love hath forced me to aspire 
 -^*- The beauties rare which do adorn thy face ; 
 Thy modest life yet bridles my desire, 
 Whose severe law doth promise me no grace. 
 But what ! may Love live under any law ? 
 No, no, his power exceedeth man's conceit. 
 Of which the Gods themselves do stand in awe, 
 For on his frown a thousand torments wait. 
 Proceed then in this desperate enterprise 
 With good advice, and follow Love thy guide, 
 That leads thee to thy wished paradise. 
 Thy climbing thoughts this comfort take withal : 
 That, if it be thy foul disgrace to slide. 
 Thy brave attempt shall yet excuse thy fall. 
 
 From Robert Jones' Musical 
 Dream, 1609. 
 
 AND is it night ? are they thine eyes that shine ? 
 Are we alone, and here ? and here, alone } 
 May I come near, may I but touch thy shrine ? 
 
 Is jealousy asleep, and is he gone ? 
 O Gods, no piore ! silence my lips with thine ! 
 Lips, kisses, joys, hap, blessing most divine ! 
 
4 MORE LYRICS FROM THE SONG-BOOKS 
 
 O come, my dear ! our griefs are turn'd to night, 
 And night to joys ; night blinds pale envy's eyes ; 
 
 Silence and sleep prepare us our delight, 
 O cease we then our woes, our griefs, our cries : 
 
 O vanish words ! words do but passtbns move : 
 
 O dearest life ! joy's sweet ! O sweetest love ! 
 
 From William Byrd's Songs of 
 Sundry Natures, 1589. 
 
 AND think ye, nymphs, to scorn at Love, 
 As if his fire were but of straws ? 
 He made the mighty gods above 
 
 To stoop and bow unto his laws ; 
 And with his shaft of beauty bright 
 He slays the hearts that scorn his might. — 
 
 Love is a fit of pleasure 
 
 Bred out of idle brains ; 
 His fancies have no measure. 
 
 No more than have his pains : 
 His vain affections Uke the weather. 
 Precise or fond, we wot not whether. 
 
 From Christ Church MS. K. 3. 
 43-5. (Music by Thomas 
 Ford.) 
 
 (i) A RE women fair and are they sweet ? 
 
 (2) ■^~*- Most fair and sweet to all that inly love them. 
 
 (i) Chaste and discreet? 
 
OF THE EUZABETHAN AGE. 5 
 
 (2) Chaste and discreet to all save those that prove 
 them. 
 
 (i) Are •women wise, are Vfomen witty ? 
 
 (2) Not wise, but they be witty ; 
 Yea, the more the pity. 
 They are so witty, and in wit so wily, 
 That be you ne'er so wise they will beguile ye.' 
 
 (i) Are women saints, are women good? 
 
 (2) No saints, nor yet no devils ; 
 Not good, but needful evils. 
 
 So angel-like that devils you may not doubt them ; 
 So needful ills that few can live without them. 
 
 (i) Are women proud, are women kind ? 
 
 (2) Yea passing proud, and praise them ; 
 Yea wondrous kind, and please them : 
 Or so imperious no man may endure them. 
 Or so kind-hearted any may procure them. 
 
 From Thomas CAMPiON's/Tjar/A 
 Book of Airs (circ. 1617). 
 
 ARE you what your fair looks express ? 
 O then be kind ! 
 From law of nature they digress 
 
 Whose form suits not their mind : 
 Fairness seen in th' outward shape 
 Is but th' inward beauty's ape. 
 
 1 MS. "you.". 
 
MORE LYRICS PROM THE SONG-BOOKS 
 
 Eyes that of earth are mortal made, 
 
 What can they view ? 
 All's but a colour or a shade, 
 
 And neither always true : 
 Reason's sight, that is etern, 
 E'en the substance can discern. 
 
 Soul is the Man : for who will so 
 
 The body name ? 
 And to that power all grace we owe, 
 
 That decks our living frame. 
 What or how had housen bin 
 But for them that dwell therein ? 
 
 Love in the bosom is begot, 
 
 Not in the eyes ; 
 No beauty makes the eye more hot. 
 
 Her flames the sprite surprise : 
 Let our loving minds then meet, 
 For pure meetings are most sweet. 
 
 "A 
 
 From Christ Churek MS, i. S- 
 49- 
 
 RT thou that she than whom no fairer is. 
 Art thou that she desire So strives to kiss?" 
 " Say I am : how then ? 
 
 Maids may not kiss 
 Such wanton-humour'd men." 
 
OF THE ELIZABETHAN AGE. 
 
 " Art thou that she' the world commends for wit ? 
 Art thou so wise and makest no use of it ?" 
 
 " Say I am : how then ? 
 My wit doth teach me shun 
 
 Such foolish foolish men." 
 
 From Robert Jones' Ultimum 
 VaU, 1608, 
 
 AT her fair hands how have I grace entreated 
 With prayers oft repeated, 
 Yet still my love is thwarted ! 
 Heart, let her go, for she'll not be converted. 
 Say, shall she go ? 
 O, no, no, no, no, no ! 
 She is most fair, though she be marble-hearted. 
 
 How often have my sighs declared my anguish 
 
 Wherein I daily languish, 
 
 Yet still she doth procure it ! 
 Heart, let her go, for 1 cannot endiire it. 
 
 Say, shall she go ? 
 
 O, no, no, no, no, no ! 
 She gave the wound, and she alone must cure it. 
 
 The trickling tears that down my cheeks have flowed 
 
 My love hath often showed, 
 
 Yet still unkind I prove her. 
 Heart, let her go, for nought I do can move her. 
 
 Say, shall she go ? 
 
 O, no, no, no, no, no ! 
 Though me she hate I cannot chuse but love her. 
 
8 MORE LYRICS FROM THE SONG-BOOKS 
 
 But shall I still a true affection owe' her, 
 
 Which prayers, sighs, tears do show her, 
 
 And' shall she still disdain me ? 
 Heart, let her go, if they no grace can gain me. 
 
 Say, shall she go ? 
 
 O, no, no, no, no, no ! 
 She made me hers and hers she will retain me. 
 
 But if the love that hath and still doth bum me 
 
 No love at length return me, 
 
 Out of my thoughts I'll set her : 
 Heart, let her go, O heart, I pray thee, let her. 
 
 Say, shall she go ? 
 
 O, no, no, no, no, no ! 
 Fixed in the heart, how can the heart forget her? 
 
 But if I weep and sigh and often wail me 
 
 Till tears, sighs, prayers fail me. 
 
 Shall yet my love persever ? ° 
 Heart, let her go, if she will right thee never. 
 
 Say, shall she go ? 
 
 O no, no, no, no, no ! 
 Tears, sighs, prayers fail, but true love lasteth ever. 
 
 1 This is the reading of the 1608 edition of Davison's Poetical 
 Rhapsody. The song-book reads " bear her." 
 
 2 Old form of " persevere." 
 
OF THE ELIZABETHAN AGE. 9 
 
 From John Dowland's First 
 Book of Songs or Airs, 1397. 
 
 AWAKE, sweet love ! thou art returned ! 
 My heart, which long in absence mourned, 
 Lives now in perfect joy. 
 Only herself hath seemed fair, 
 She only I could love ; 
 She only drave me to despair 
 When she unkind did prove. 
 
 Let love, which never, absent, dies. 
 Now live for ever in her eyes 
 Whence came my first annoy ! 
 Despair did make me wish to die 
 That I my joys might end : 
 She only, which did make me fly. 
 My state may now amend. 
 
 — If she esteem thee now ought worth, 
 She win not grieve thy love henceforth, 
 
 Which so despair hath proved. — 
 Despair hath proved now in me 
 That love will not unconstant be 
 
 Though long in vain I loved. — 
 
 If she at last reward thy love 
 
 And all thy harms repair. 
 Thy happiness will sweeter prove. 
 
 Raised up from deep despair ; 
 And if that now thou welcome be 
 
 When thou with her doth meet. 
 She all this while but played with thee 
 
 To make thy joys more sweet. 
 
lo MOHB LYRICS FROM THE SONG-BOOKS 
 
 From Thomas Campion's Third 
 Book of Airs (<aic. 1S17). 
 
 AWAKE, thou spring of speaking grace ! mute rest 
 becomes not thee : 
 The fairest women while they sleep, and pictures, 
 equal be. 
 O come and dwell in love's discourses ! 
 
 Old renewing, new creating. 
 The words which thy rich tongue discourses 
 Are not of the common rating. 
 
 Thy voice is as an Echo clear which music doth beget, 
 Thy speech is as an oracle which none can counter- 
 feit : 
 For thou alone, without offending, 
 
 Hast obtained power of enchanting. 
 And I could hear thee without ending, 
 Other comfort never wanting. 
 
 Some little reason brutisn lives with human' glory 
 
 share. 
 But language is our proper grace from which they 
 severed are. 
 As brutes in reason man surpasses, 
 Men in speech excel each other : 
 If speech be then the best of graces, 
 Do it not in slunlber smother. 
 
A 
 
 OF THE ELIZABETHAN AGE. 
 
 From Francis Pilkington's 
 First Book of Songs or Airs, 
 1605. 
 
 Y me, she frowns ; my mistress is oflfended ; 
 O pardon, dear, my miss ' shall be amended. 
 My fault from love proceeded, 
 
 It merits grace the rather ; 
 If I no danger dreaded, 
 
 It was to win your favour. 
 Then clear those clouds, the'n smile on me. 
 
 And let us be good friends : 
 Come walk, come talk, come kiss, come see 
 
 How soon our quarrel ends. 
 
 Why lours my love and blots so sweet a beauty ? 
 O be appeased with vows, with faith, and duty. 
 Give over to be cruel, 
 
 Sith kindness seems you better ; 
 You have but changed a jewel, 
 
 And Love is not your debtor. 
 Then welcome mirth and banish moan, 
 
 Shew pity on your lover ; 
 Come play, come sport, the thing that's gone 
 
 No sorrow can recover. 
 
 Still are you angry and is there no relenting ? 
 O weigh my woes, be moved with my lamenting. 
 Alas, my heart is grieved, 
 Mine inward soul doth sorrow ; 
 
 1 Fault. 
 
la MORE LYSICS FROM THE SONG-BOOKS 
 
 Unless I be relieved 
 
 I die before to-morrow. 
 The coast is clear'd, her count'nance cheer'd, 
 
 I am again in grace ; 
 Then farewell fear, then come, my dear, 
 
 Let's dally and embrace ! 
 
 From Thomas Campion's Third 
 Book of Airs (circ. 1617). 
 
 BE thou then my Beauty named, 
 Since thy will is to be mine ; 
 For by that I am enflamed 
 
 Which on all alike doth shine ; 
 Others may the light admire, 
 I only truly feel the fire. 
 
 But if lofty titles move thee. 
 
 Challenge then a Sovereign's place ; 
 Say I honour when I love thee. 
 
 Let me call thy kindness Grace : 
 State and Love things diverse be, 
 Yet will we teach them to agree. 
 
 Or if this be not sufficing, 
 
 Be thou styled my Goddess then : 
 I will love thee, sacrificing ; 
 
 In thine honour hymns I'll pen : 
 To be thine, what canst thou more ? 
 I'll love thee, serve thee, and adore. 
 
OF THE ELIZABETHAN AGE. 13 
 
 From Thomas Campion's Fourth 
 Book of Airs (ciro. 1617). 
 
 T) EAUTY is but a painted hell : 
 -'-' Ay me, ay me ! 
 She wounds them that admire it, 
 She kills them that desire it. 
 
 Give her pride but fuel, 
 
 No fire is more cruel. 
 
 Pity from every heart is fled : 
 
 Ay me, ay me ! 
 Since false desire could borrow 
 Tears of dissembled sorrow, 
 
 Constant vows turn truthless, 
 
 Love cruel, Beauty ruthless. 
 
 Sorrow can laugh and Fury sing : 
 
 Ay me, ay me ! 
 My raving griefs discover 
 I lived too true a lover. 
 
 The first step to madness 
 
 Is excess of sadness. 
 
 From Campion and Rosseter's 
 Book of Airs, 1601. 
 
 T) LAME not my cheeks, though pale with love they 
 
 The kindly heat unto my heart is flown 
 To cherish it that is dismayed by thee, 
 
 Who art so cruel and unsteadfast grown : 
 For Nature, called for by distressed hearts. 
 Neglects and quite forsakes the outward parts. 
 
14 MORE LYRICS FROM THE SONG-BOOKS 
 
 But they whose cheeks with careless blood are stained 
 Nurse not one spark of love within their hearts ; 
 
 And, when they woo, they speak with passion feigned, 
 For their fat love lies in their outward parts : 
 
 But in their breasts, where love his court should hold, 
 
 Poor Cupid sits and blows his nails for cold. 
 
 From Thomas Vautor's Songs 
 of divers Airs and Natures , 
 1619. 
 
 BLUSH, my rude present ; blushing, yet say this, — 
 That he that sent thee meant a better thing : 
 Best meaners oft of their best purpose miss, 
 
 Best runners sometime fail to hit the ring ; 
 What wants in show he doth supply in mind : 
 Tell my sweet mistress, saint of woman-kind. 
 
 From Add. MS. 17792. 
 
 BUZZ, buzz, buzz ! 
 Ring out your kettle 
 Of purest metal 
 To settle, to settle. 
 Your swarm of bees ! 
 For men new wiving 
 The way to be thriving 
 Is hiving, hiving ; 
 Then no time leese' 
 To hive your bees. 
 
 ' Old form of "lose." 
 
OF THE ELIZABETHAN AGE. 15 
 
 From Thomas Bateson's Second 
 Set of Madrigals, 1618. 
 
 CAMELLA fair tripped o'er the plain, 
 I followed quickly after ; 
 Have overtaken her I would fain, 
 
 And kissed her when I caught her. 
 But hope being passed her to obtain, 
 
 "CameUa!" loud I call : 
 She answered me with great disdain, 
 " I will not kiss at all." 
 
 From Martin Peeeson's Pri- 
 vate Music, 1620. 
 
 CAN a maid that is well bred, 
 Hath a blush so lovely red, 
 Modest looks, wise, mild, discreet, 
 Andja nature passing sweet, 
 
 Break her promise, untrue prove, 
 On a sudden change her love, 
 Or be won e'er to neglect 
 Him to whom she vowed respect ? 
 
 Such a maid, alas ! I know : 
 O that weeds 'mongst corn should grow ! 
 Or a rose should prickles have, 
 Wounding where she ought to save ! 
 
i6 MORE LYRICS FROM THE SONG-BOOKS 
 
 I, that did her parts extol, 
 Will my lavish tongue control : 
 Outward parts do blind the eyes, 
 Gall in golden pills oft lies. 
 
 Reason, wake, and sleep no more, 
 Land upon some safer shore, 
 Think on her and be afraid 
 Of a faithless fickle maid. 
 
 Of a faithless fickle maid 
 Thus true love is still betrayed : 
 Yet it is some ease to sing 
 That a maid is light of wing. 
 
 From William Byrd's Psalms 
 Sonnets, and Songs, 1588. 
 
 CARE for thy soul as thing of greatest price. 
 Made to the end to taste of power divine, 
 Devoid of guilt, abhorring sin and vice. 
 
 Apt by God's grace to virtue to incline : 
 Care for it so that by thy reckless train 
 It be not brought to taste eternal pain. 
 
 Care for thy corpse, but chiefly for soul's sake ; 
 
 Cut off excess, sustaining food is best ; 
 To vanquish pride, but comely clothing take ; 
 
 Seek after skill, deep ignorance detest : 
 Care so (I say) the flesh to feed and clothe. 
 That thou harm not thy soul and body both. 
 
OF THE ELIZABETHAN AGE. 17 
 
 Care for the world, to do thy body right ; 
 
 Rack not thy wit to win by wicked ways ; 
 Seek not to oppress the weak by wrongful might ; 
 
 To pay thy due do banish all delays : 
 Care to dispend according to thy store, 
 And in like sort be mindful of the poor. 
 
 Care for thy soul as for thy chiefest stay ; 
 
 Care for thy body for the soul's avail ; 
 Care for the world for body's help alway ; 
 
 Care yet but so as virtue may prevail : 
 Care in such sort as thou beware of this — 
 Care keep thee not from heaven and heavenly bliss ! 
 
 From Robert Jones' Ultimum 
 Vale, 1608. 
 
 CEASE, troubled thoughts, to sigh or sigh yourselves 
 to death, 
 Or kindle not my grief or cool it with your breath : 
 Let not that spirit which made me live 
 Seek thus untimely to deprive 
 Me of my life : 
 Unequal strife, 
 That breath which gave me being 
 Should hasten me to dying ! 
 
 Cease, melting J:ears, to stream, stop your uncessant 
 
 course. 
 Which to my sorrow's child are like a fruitful nurse, 
 C 
 
i8 MORE LYRICS FROM THE SONG-BOOKS 
 
 From whence death living comfort draws ; 
 And I myself appear the cause 
 Of all my woe ; 
 But 'tis not so, 
 For she, whose beauty won me. 
 By falsehood hath undone me. 
 
 From John Wilbye's Second Set 
 of Madrigals, 1609. 
 
 CHANGE me, O heavens into the ruby stone 
 That on my love's fair locks doth hang in gold, 
 Yet leave me speech to her to make my moan, 
 
 And give me eyes her beauties to behold ; 
 Or if you will not make my flesh a stone, 
 Make her hard heart seem flesh that now seems none. 
 
 From Thomas Campion's Tim 
 Books of Airs (circ. 1613). 
 
 COME away, armed with love's delights ! 
 Thy spriteful glances bring with thee ! 
 When love and longing fights, 
 
 They must the sticklers be. 
 Come quickly, come ! the promised hour is well-nigh 
 
 spent, 
 And pleasure, being too much deferred, loseth her 
 best content. 
 
OF THE ELIZABETHAN AGE. 19 
 
 Is she come ? Oh how near is she ! 
 
 How far yet from this friendly place ! 
 How many steps from me ! 
 
 When shall I her embrace ! 
 These arms I'll spread, which only at her sight shall 
 
 close, 
 Attending as the starry flower that the sun's noontide 
 knows. 
 
 From Thomas Campion's Two 
 Books of Airs (ciro. 1613). 
 
 COME, cheerful day, part of my life to me ; • 
 
 Fer while thou view'st me with thy fading light, 
 Part of my life doth still depart with thee. 
 
 And I still onward haste to my last night : 
 Time's fatal wings do ever forward fly. 
 So every day we live a day we die. 
 
 But, O ye nights, ordained for barren rest, 
 How are my days deprived of life in you, 
 
 When heavy sleep my soul hath dispossest. 
 By feigned death life sweetly to renew ! 
 
 Part of my life in that, you life deny : 
 
 So every day we live a day we die. 
 
20 MORE LYRJCS FROM THE SONG-BOOKS 
 
 From Christ ChurchMS. i. 5. 49. 
 
 COME, lusty ladies, come, come, come ! 
 With pensive thoughts you pine. 
 Come, learn the galliard now of us, 
 For we be masquers [fine]. 
 We sing, we dance, and we rejoice 
 With mirth in modesty : 
 Come, ladies, then and take a part, 
 And, as we sing, dance ye ! 
 Tarranta ta-ta-ta-ta-tararantina, &c. 
 
 From Martin Peerson's Pri- 
 vate Music, 1620. 
 
 COME, pretty wag, and sing ; 
 The sun's all-ripening wing 
 Fans up the wanton spring. 
 O let us both go chaunt it ! 
 O how fresh May doth flaunt it ! 
 
 Then with reports most sprightly 
 Trip with thy voice most lightly : 
 O sing, O sing, so wittily, 
 For now, for now, the cuckoo sings, 
 Cuckoo, cuckoo ! 
 That echo doth rebound 
 And dally with the sound. 
 1 MS. "at." 
 
OP THE ELIZABETHAN AGE. 21 
 
 From Thomas Morley's The 
 First Book of Airs, 1600. 
 
 COME, Sorrow, come, sit down and mourn with me ; 
 Hang down thy head upon thy baleful breast, 
 That God and man and all the world may see 
 Our heavy hearts do live in quiet rest : 
 Enfold thine arms and wring thy wretched hands 
 To shew the state wherein poor Sorrow stands. 
 
 Cry not outright, for that were children's guise, 
 But let thy tears fall trickling down thy face. 
 And weep so long until thy blubbered eyes 
 May see in sum' the depth of thy disgrace. 
 Oh shake thy head, but not a word but mum ; 
 The heart once dead, the tongue is stroken dumb. 
 
 And let our fare be dishes of despite 
 To break our hearts and not our fasts withal ; 
 Then let us sup with sorrow-sops at night, 
 And bitter sauce all of a broken gall : 
 Thus let us live till heavens may rue to see 
 The doleful doom ordained for thee and me. 
 
 From John Dowland's Second 
 Book of Songs or Airs, 1600. 
 
 COME, ye heavy states of night. 
 Do my father's spirit right ; 
 Soundings baleful let me borrow, 
 Burthening my song with sorrow. 
 
 Come, Sorrow, come ! her eyes that sings 
 By thee are turned into springs. 
 
 ' Old ed, " May see (in Sunne)." 
 
22 MORE LYRICS FROM THE SONG-BOOKS 
 
 Come, you virgins of the night, 
 
 That in" dirges sad delight, 
 
 Quire my anthems : I do borrow 
 
 Gold nor pearl, but sounds of sorrow. 
 
 Come, Sorrow, come ! her eyes that sings 
 By thee are turned into springs. 
 
 From Richard Cablton's 
 Mairigals, 1601. 
 
 CONTENT thyself with thy estate, 
 Seek not to climb above the skies, 
 For often love is mixed with hate 
 
 And 'twixt the flowers the serpent lies : 
 Where fortune sends her greatest joys, 
 There once possest they are but. toys. 
 
 What thing can earthly pleasure give 
 That breeds delight when it is past ? 
 
 Or who so quietly doth live 
 But storms of care do drown at last ? 
 
 This is the loan of worldly hire. 
 
 The more we have the more desire. 
 
 Wherefore I hold him best at ease 
 
 That lives content with his estate. 
 And doth not sail in worldly seas 
 
 Where Mine and Thine do breed debate : 
 This noble mind, even in a clown. 
 Is more than to possess a crown. 
 
OF THE ELIZABETHAN AGE. 23 
 
 From Thomas Bateson's Second 
 Set of Madrigals, 1618. 
 
 CUPID, in a bed of roses 
 Sleeping, chanced to be stung 
 
 Of a bee that lay among 
 The flowers where he himself reposes ; 
 And thus to his mother weeping 
 
 Told that he this wound did take 
 
 Of a little winged snake, 
 As he lay securely sleeping. 
 Cytherea smiling said 
 
 That " if so great sorrow spring 
 
 From a silly bee's weak sting 
 As should make thee thus dismayd, 
 What anguish feel they, think'st thou, and what pain, 
 Whom thy empoison'd arrows cause complain ? " 
 
 From Christ Church MS. i. S- 49- 
 (Music by Alfonso Ferra- 
 BOSCO. ) 
 
 DAPHNIS came on a summer's day 
 Where fair Phillis sleeping lay, 
 With breast half naked bare : 
 He ran and gathered stores of lilies, 
 Wherewith he covered his fair Phillis, 
 She being nought aware. 
 Fond youth, why dost thou mar 
 Those lily-bowers and lose the pain ? 
 Her lily breast doth stain 
 All flowers and lilies far. 
 
24 MOXE LYRICS FROM THE SONG-BOOKS 
 
 From Stafford SmitiI's Musica 
 Antiqua. (Words by 
 
 Thomas May?) 
 
 DEAR, do not your fair beauty wrong 
 In thinking still you are too young ; 
 The rose and lily in your cheek 
 Flourish, and no more ripening seek ; 
 Inflaming beams shot from your eye 
 Do show Love's Midsummer is nigh ; 
 Your cherry lip, red, soft, and sweet. 
 Proclaims such fruit for taste is meet ; 
 Love is still young, a buxom boy, 
 And younglings are allowed to toy : 
 Then lose no time, for love hath wings, 
 And flies away from aged things. 
 
 From John Coperario's Funeral 
 Tears, i6o6. 
 
 DECEITFUL fancy, why delud'st thou me. 
 The dead alive presenting ? 
 My joy's fair image carved in shades I see : 
 
 O false, yet sweet, contenting ! 
 Why art not thou a substance like to me, 
 Or I a shade to vanish hence with thee ? 
 
OF THE ELIZABETHAN AGE. 25 
 
 Stay, gentle object ! my sense still deceive 
 
 With this thy kind illusion ; 
 I die through madness if my thoughts you leave : 
 
 O strange, yet sweet, confusion ! 
 Poor blissless heart that feels such deep annoy, 
 Only to lose the shadow of thy joy ! 
 
 From Robert Jones' Secotid 
 Book of Airs, 1601. 
 
 DID ever man thus love as I ! 
 I think I was made 
 For no other trade ; 
 My mind doth it so hard apply, 
 And all fond courses else doth ily. 
 
 Undoing were a petty care ; 
 
 Losing my best hopes 
 
 In their largest scopes. 
 To loving when I do compare, 
 Methinks I could as trifles spare. 
 
 All my sad thoughts, though wide begun. 
 
 In her still do meet 
 
 Who makes thinking sweet. 
 And then to me again they run 
 To tell me all that they have done. 
 
 Thus do I spend my days and hours 
 
 In a pleasant round 
 
 Where true joys are found. 
 And there alone my soul devours 
 All love's dear food with longing powers. 
 
26 MORE LYRICS FROM THE SONG-BOOKS 
 
 A heav'n on earth is love well met ; 
 
 There is more content 
 
 Than can well be spent, 
 
 When in two fruitful hearts 'tis set 
 
 Which will not be in either's debt. 
 
 From John Dowland's A 
 Pilgrims Solace, 1612. 
 
 DISDAIN me still that I may ever love, 
 For who his love enjoys can love no more : 
 The war once past, with ease men cowards prove, 
 And ships returned do rot upon the shore : 
 And though thou frown, I'll say thou art most fair. 
 And still I'll love, though still I must despair. 
 
 As heat to life, so is desire to love, 
 
 And these once quenched both life and love are gone : 
 
 Let not my sighs nor tears thy Virtue move, 
 
 Like baser metals do not melt too soon : 
 
 Laugh at my woes although I ever mourn ; 
 
 Love surfeits with reward, his nurse is scorn. 
 
 From Robert Jones' Ullimum 
 Vale, 1608. 
 
 DISDAIN, that so doth fill me, 
 Hath surely sworn to kill me, 
 And I must die ; 
 
OF THE ELIZABETHAN AGE. 27 
 
 Desire that so doth burn me 
 To life again will turn me, 
 And live must I. 
 
 kill me then, disdain. 
 That I may live again ! 
 
 Thy looks are life unto me 
 And yet thy looks undo me : 
 
 O death and life ! 
 Thy smile' some rest doth show me, 
 Thy frown with war o'erthrow me : 
 
 O peace and strife ! 
 Nor life nor death is either : 
 Then give me both or neither. 
 
 Life only cannot please" me, 
 Death only cannot ease me : 
 Change is delight. 
 
 1 live that death may kill me, 
 I die that life may fill me, 
 
 Both day and night 
 If once despair decay 
 Desire will wear away. 
 
 1 This is the reading in Davison's Poetical Rhapsody, ed. r6o8, 
 and Martin Veetson's Private Music, 1620, — Jones gives "Thy 
 smiles some rest do show me" and in the next line "Thy 
 frowns. " 
 
 2 Jones reads " ease me " in this line and " please me " in the. 
 next. I have followed Davison's and Peerson's text. 
 
28 MORE LYRICS FROM THE SONG-BOOKS 
 
 From Robert Jones' Ultimum 
 Vale, 1608. 
 
 D 
 
 O not, O do not prize thy beauty at too high a rate, 
 Love to be loved whilst thou art lovely, lest thou 
 love too late ; 
 Frowns print wrinkles in thy brows 
 At which spiteful age doth smile. 
 Women in their froward vows 
 Glorying to beguile. 
 
 Wert thou the only world's admired thou canst love 
 
 but one, 
 And many have before been loved, thou art not loved 
 alone : 
 Couldst thou speak with heavenly grace, 
 Sappho might with thee compare ; 
 Blush the roses in thy face, 
 Rosamond was as fair. 
 
 Pride is the canker that consumeth beauty in her prime, 
 They that delight in long debating feel the curse of 
 time: 
 
 All things with the time do change. 
 
 That will not the time obey ; 
 
 Some even to themselves seem strange 
 
 Thorough their own delay. 
 
OF THE ELIZABETHAN AGE. 29 
 
 From Alfonso Ferrabosco's 
 Airs, 1609. 
 
 DROWN not with tears, my dearest Love, 
 Those eyes which my affections move ; 
 Do not with weeping those lights blind 
 Which me in thy subjection bind. 
 Time that hath made us two of one. 
 And forced thee now to live alone, 
 Will once again us re-unite 
 To show how she can Fortune spite. 
 Then will we our time redeem, 
 And hold our hours in more esteem, 
 Turning all our sweetest nights 
 Into millions of delights ; 
 And strive with many thousand kisses 
 To multiply exchange of blisses. 
 
 From Alfonso Ferrabosco's 
 Airs, 1609. 
 
 FAIN I would, but oh I dare not, 
 Speak my thoughts at full to praise her : 
 " Speak the best," cries Love, " and spare not ; 
 
 Thy speech can no higher raise her : 
 Thy speech than thy thoughts are lower, 
 Yet thy-thoughts doth not half know her.'' 
 
30 MOJfE LYRICS FROM THE SONG-BOOKS 
 
 From Thomas Campion's Two 
 Books cf Airs (arc 1613). 
 
 FAIN would I my love disclose, 
 Ask what honour might deny ; 
 But both love and her I lose, 
 From my motion' if she fly. 
 Worse than pain is fear to me : 
 Then hold in fancy though it bum ! 
 If not happy, safe I'll be 
 And to my cloistered cares return. 
 
 Yet, oh yet, in vain I strive 
 To repress my schooled desire ; 
 More and more the flames revive, 
 I consume in mine own fire. 
 She would pity, might she know 
 The harms that I for her endure. 
 Speak then ! and get comfort so : 
 A wound long hid grows past recure. 
 
 Wise she is and needs must know 
 All th' attempts that beauty moves ; 
 Fair she is and honoured so, 
 That she, sure, hath tried some loves. 
 If with love I tempt her then, 
 'Tis but her due to be desired : 
 What would women think of men 
 If their deserts were not admired ? 
 
 1 Proposal. 
 
OF THE ELIZABETHAN AGE. 31 
 
 Women courted have the hand 
 
 To discard what they distaste ; 
 
 But those dames whom none demand 
 
 Want oft what their wills embrace. 
 
 Could their firmness iron excel, 
 
 As they are fair, they should be sought ; 
 
 When true thieves use falsehood well, 
 
 As they are wise, they will be caught. 
 
 From Thomas Bateson's First 
 Set of English Madrigals, 
 1604. 
 
 "rj"AIR Hebe, when dame Flora meets, 
 -^ She trips and leaps as gallants do ; 
 Up to the hills and down again 
 
 To the vallies runs she to and fro. 
 But out, alas ! when frosty locks 
 
 Begirds the head with cark and care. 
 Peace ! laugh no more, let pranks go by 
 
 Slow-crawling age forbids such ware. 
 
 From Michael Este's Madri- 
 gals, 1604. 
 
 FAIR is my love, my dear and only jewel. 
 Mild are her looks, but yet her heart is cruel : 
 O that her heart were, as her looks are, mild ! 
 Then should I not from comfort be exiled. 
 
32 MORE LYRICS FROM THE SONG-BOOKS 
 
 From Orlando Gibbons' First 
 Set of Madrigals, 1612. 
 
 FAIR is the rose, yet fades with heat or cold ; 
 Sweet are the violets, yet soon grown old ; 
 The lily's white, yet in one day 'tis done ; 
 White is the snow, yet melts against the sun : 
 So white, so sweet, was my fair mistress' face, 
 Yet alter'd quite in one short hour's ' space : 
 So short-lived beauty a vain gloss doth borrow. 
 Breathing delight to-day but none to-morrow. 
 
 From Robert Jones' Second Book 
 of Songs and Airs, 1601. 
 
 FAIR women like fair jewels are 
 Whose worth lies in opinion ; 
 To praise them all must be his care 
 
 Who goes about to win one ; 
 And when he hath her once obtained, 
 
 To her face he must her flatter, 
 But not to others, lest he move 
 Their eyes to level at her. 
 
 The way to purchase truth in love, 
 
 If such way there be any. 
 Must be to give her leave to rove, 
 
 And hinder one by many ; 
 
 ^ " Hour" is here (as frequently in the Elizabethan poets) to 
 be pronounced as a dissyllable. In fact it was commonly spelt 
 "hower.*' 
 
OP THE ELIZABETHAN AGE. 33 
 
 Believe thou must that she is true/ 
 When poisoned tongues do sting her ; 
 
 Rich jewels bear the self-same hue 
 Worn upon any finger. 
 
 The perfectest of mind and shape 
 
 Must look for defamations ; 
 Live how they will, they cannot 'scape, 
 
 Their persons are temptations : 
 Then let the world condemn my choice, 
 
 As laughing at my folfy ; 
 If she be kind, the self-same voice 
 
 Is spread of the most holy. 
 
 From Robert Jones' First Book 
 of Songs and Airs, 1601. 
 
 FAREWELL, dear love ! since thou wilt needs be 
 gone : 
 Mine eyes do show my life is aWoSt done. 
 — Nay I will never die. 
 So long as I can spy ; 
 There be many mo 
 Though that she do go. 
 There be many mo, I fear not ; 
 Why, then, let her go, I care not. — 
 
 Farewell, farewell ! since this I find is true, 
 I will not spend more time in wooing you. 
 — But I will seek elsewhere 
 If I may find her there. 
 1 Olded. "fayre." 
 D 
 
34 MORE LYRICS FROM THE SONG-BOOKS 
 
 Shall I bid her go ? 
 
 ^yhat and if I do ? 
 Shall I bid her go and spare not ? 
 O no, no, no, no, I dare not. — 
 
 Ten thousand times farewell ! yet stay awhile. 
 Sweet, kiss me once, sweet kisses time beguile. 
 
 — I have no power to move : 
 
 How now, am I in love ! — 
 
 Wilt thou needs be gone ? 
 
 Go then, all is one. 
 Wilt thou needs be gone ? Oh hie thee ! 
 Nay ; stay, and do no more deny me. 
 
 Once more fareweU ! I see Loth to depart ' 
 Bids oft adieu to her that holds my heart ; 
 
 But seeing I must lose 
 
 Thy love which I did choose. 
 
 Go thy ways for me, 
 
 Since it may not be : 
 Go thy ways for me ! but whither ? 
 Go, — oh but where I may come thither. 
 
 What shall I do ? my love is now departed. 
 She is as fair as she is cruel-hearted : 
 
 She would not be entreated 
 
 With prayers oft repeated. 
 
 If she come no more. 
 
 Shall I die therefore ? 
 If she come no more, what care I ? 
 — Faith, let her go, or come, or tarry ! 
 
 ' There was an old song with this title. — See Chappell's Popular 
 Music of the Olden Time, p. 173. 
 
OF THE ELIZABETHAN AGE. 35 
 
 From Robert Jones' SecondBook 
 of Songs and Airs, 1601. 
 
 'C'lE, fie, fie ! what a coil is here ! 
 -•- Why, strive you to get a kiss ? 
 Do, do, do, what you will, 
 You shall be ne'er the near.^ 
 Had I been willing 
 So to be billing, 
 
 You had prevailed long ere this : 
 Sweet, stand away, let me alone, 
 Or else in faith I'll get me gone. 
 
 Come, come, come ! do you not perceive 
 
 I am not yet disposed to yield ? 
 
 Stay, stay, stay but a while : 
 
 My love will give you leave. 
 
 This my denial 
 
 Is but a trial 
 
 If faint desire will fly the field. 
 
 Whoop ! look you now, I pray be still : 
 
 Nay, then, in faidi, do what you will. 
 
 From John Dowland's Third 
 Book of Songs or Airs, 1603. 
 
 FLOW not so fast ye fountains : 
 What needeth all this haste ? 
 Swell not above your mountains. 
 Nor spend your time in waste. 
 
 Gentle springs, freshly your salt tears 
 Must still fall, dropping from their spheres. 
 I ' ' Ne'er the near" — never the nearer. (A proverbial expression. ) 
 
36 MORE LYRICS FROM THE SONG-BOOKS 
 
 Weep they apace, whom Reason 
 
 Or lingering Time Can ease : 
 
 My sorrow can no season, 
 
 Nor ought besides appease. 
 
 Gentle springs, freshly your salt tears 
 Must still fall, dropping from their spheres. 
 
 Time can £^bate the terror 
 
 Of every common pain : 
 
 But common grief is error, 
 
 True grief will still remain. 
 
 Gentle springs, freshly your salt tears 
 Must still fall, dropping from their spheres. 
 
 From CAMPION and Rosseter's 
 Book of Airs, 1601. 
 
 FOLLOW thy fair sun, unhappy shadow ! 
 Though thou be black as night, 
 And she made all of light. 
 Yet follow thy fair sun, unhappy shadow ! 
 
 Follow her, whose light thy light depriveth ! 
 
 Though here thou liv'st disgraced. 
 
 And she in heaven is placed. 
 Yet follow her whose light the world reviveth ! 
 
 Follow those pure beams, whose beauty bumeth ! 
 
 That so have scorched thee 
 
 As thou still black must be 
 Till her kind beams thy black to brightness tumeth. 
 
OF THE ELIZABETHAN AGE. 37 
 
 Follow her, while yet her glory shineth ! 
 
 There comes a luckless night 
 
 That will dim all her light ; 
 And this the black unhappy shade divineth. 
 
 Follow still, since so thy fates ordained ! 
 
 The Sim must have his shade. 
 
 Till both at once do fade, 
 The sun still proved,' the shadow still disdained. 
 
 From Thomas Bateson's Second 
 Sei of Madrigals, 1618. 
 
 FOND Love is blind, blind therefore lovers be, 
 But I more blind who ne'er my love did see ; 
 Pigmalion loved an image, I a name, 
 I laughed at him but now deserve like blame : 
 Thus foolishly I leap before I look, 
 Seeing no bait I swallowed have the hook. 
 
 Ah Cupid grant that I may never see 
 
 Her, though mine ear that thus hath wounded me : 
 
 If through mine eyes another wound she give, 
 
 Cupid, alas ! then I no longer live, 
 
 But die, poor wretch, shot through and through the 
 
 liver 
 With those sharp arrows she stole from thy quiver. 
 
 ' i.e., approved. 
 
38 MORB. LYRICS FROM THE SONG-BOOKS 
 
 From Dr. John Wilson's Cheer- 
 ful Airs or Ballads, i66o. 
 
 FONDNESS of man to love a she, 
 Were beauty's image on her face 
 So carved by immortality 
 As envious time cannot disgrace. 
 
 Who shall weigh a lover's pain ? 
 
 Feigned smiles awhile his hopes may steer ; 
 But soon reduced by sad disdain 
 
 To the first principles of fear. 
 
 Then farewell, fairest, ne'er will I 
 
 Pursue uncertain blisses more : 
 Who sails by woman's constancy, 
 
 Shipwracks his love on every shore. 
 
 From John Dowland's A Pil- 
 grim's Solace, 1612. 
 
 GO, nightly cares, the enemy to rest. 
 Forbear awhile to vex my wearied sprite ; 
 So long your weight hath lain upon my breast 
 That, lo! I live of life bereaved quite : 
 O give me time to draw my wearied breath. 
 Or let me die as I desire the death. 
 Welcome, sweet Death ! O life, no life, a hell ! 
 Then thus and thus I bid the world farewell. 
 
OF THE ELIZABETHAN AGE. 
 
 False world, farewell, the enemy to rest, 
 Now do thy worst, I do not weigh thy spite ; 
 Free from thy cares I live for ever blest. 
 Enjoying peace and heavenly true delight : 
 Delight, whom woes nor sorrows shall amate. 
 Nor fears or tears disturb her happy state : 
 And thus I leave thy hopes, thy joys untrue, 
 And thus, and thus, vain world, again adieu ! 
 
 From Dr. John Wilson's Chan 
 ful Airs or Ballads, 1660. 
 
 GREEDY lover, pause awhile, . 
 And remember that a smile 
 Heretofore 
 Would have made thy hopes a feast ; 
 
 Which is more. 
 Since thy diet was increased, 
 Than both looks and language too. 
 Or the face itself, can do. 
 
 Such a province is my hand 
 As, if it thou couldst command, 
 
 Heretofore 
 There thy lips would seem to dwell ; 
 
 Which is more. 
 Ever since they sped so well. 
 Than they can be brought to do 
 By my neck and bosom too. 
 
40 MORE LYRICS FROM THE SONG-BOOKS 
 
 If the centre of my breast, 
 A dominion unpossest 
 
 Heretofore, 
 May thy wandering thoughts suffice. 
 
 Seek no more. 
 And my heart shall be thy prize : 
 So thou keep above the line, 
 All the hemisphere is thine. 
 
 If the flames of love were pure. 
 Which by oath thou didst assure 
 
 Heretofore, 
 Gold that goes into the clear 
 
 Shines the more 
 When it leaves again the fire : 
 Let not then those looks of thine 
 Blemish what they should refine. 
 
 I have cast into the fire 
 Almost all thou couldst desire 
 
 Heretofore ; 
 But I see thou art to crave 
 
 More and more. 
 Should I cast in all I have, 
 So that 1 were ne'er so free, 
 Thou wouldst bum, though not for me. 
 
OF THE ELIZABETHAN AGE. 41 
 
 From Thomas Campion's Two 
 Books of Airs (circ. 1613). 
 
 HARDEN now thy tired heart with more than 
 flinty rage ! 
 Ne'er let her false tears henceforth thy constant grief 
 
 assuage ! 
 Once true happy days thou s^w'st, when she stood firm 
 
 and kind ; 
 Both as one then lived, and held one ear, one tongue, 
 
 one mind : 
 But now those bright hours be fled and never may 
 
 return : 
 What then remains but her untruths to mourn ! 
 
 Silly trait'ress, who shall now thy careless tresses 
 
 place ? 
 Who thy pretty talk supply? whose ear thy music 
 
 gfrace? 
 Who shall thy bright eyes admire, what lips triumph 
 
 with thine ? 
 Day by day who'll visit thee and say " Th' art only 
 
 mine.'' 
 Such a time there was, God wot, but such shall never 
 
 be. 
 Too oft, I fear, thou wilt remember me. 
 
43 MORE LYRICS FROM THE SONG-BOOKS 
 
 From Campion and Rosseter's 
 Book of Airs, 1601. 
 
 HARK, all you ladies that do sleep ! 
 The fairy-queen Proserpina 
 Bids you awake and pity them that weep : 
 You may do in the dark 
 
 What the day doth forbid ; 
 Fear not the dogs that bark. 
 Night will have all hid. 
 
 But if you let your lovers moan, 
 The fairy-queen Proserpina 
 Will send abroad her fairies every one, 
 That shall pinch black and blue 
 
 Your white hands and fair arms 
 That did not kindly rue 
 
 Your paramours" harms. 
 
 In myrtle arbours on the downs 
 The fairy-queen Proserpina, 
 This night by moonshine leading merry rounds. 
 Holds a watch with sweet love, 
 Down the dale, up the hill ; 
 No plaints or groans may move 
 Their holy vigil. 
 
 1 " Paramour "=lover. (The word acquired its present offen- 
 sive meaning at a later date. ) 
 
OP THE ELIZABETHAN AGE. 43 
 
 All you that will hold watch with love, 
 
 The fairy-queen Proserpina 
 Will make you fairer than Dione's dove ; 
 Roses red, lilies white. 
 
 And the clear damask hue, 
 Shall on your cheeks alight : 
 Love will adorn you. 
 
 All you that love or loved before. 
 
 The fairy-queen Proserpina 
 Bids you increase that loving humour more : 
 They that yet have not fed 
 
 On delight amorous. 
 She vows that they shall lead 
 Apes in Avernus. 
 
 From Pammelia, 1609. 
 
 HEIGH ho ! 
 To the greenwood now let us go ! 
 Sing heave and ho ! 
 
 And there shall we find both buck and doe : 
 Sing heave and ho ! 
 
 The hart and hind and the pretty little roe. 
 Sing heave and ho ! 
 
44 MORE LYRICS FROM THE SONG-BOOKS 
 
 From ThomasCampion's Fourth 
 Book qf Airs (circ 1617). 
 
 HER fair inflaming eyes, 
 Chief authors of my cares, 
 I prayed in humblest wise 
 
 With grace to view my tears : 
 They beheld me broad awake, 
 But alas no ruth would take. 
 
 Her lips with kisses rich. 
 
 And words of fair delight, 
 I fairly did beseech 
 
 To pity my sad plight : 
 But a voice from them broke forth. 
 As a whirlwind from the north. 
 
 Then to her hands I fled, 
 
 That can give heart and all ; 
 To them I long did plead, 
 
 And loud for pity call : 
 But, alas, they put me off 
 With a touch worse than a scoff. 
 
 So back I straight return'd. 
 
 And at her breast I knock'd, 
 Where long in vain T mourn'd. 
 
 Her heart so fast was lock'd : 
 Not a word could passage find. 
 For a rock enclosed her mind. 
 
OF THE ELIZABETHAN AGE. 45 
 
 Then down my prayers made way 
 
 To those most comely parts 
 That make her fly or stay, 
 
 As they affect deserts ; 
 But her angry feet, thus moved, 
 Fled with all the parts I loved. 
 
 Yet fled they not so fast 
 
 As her enraged mind : 
 Still did I after haste, 
 
 Still was I left behind ; 
 Till I found 'twas to no end 
 With a spirit to contend. 
 
 Fr6m Thomas Bateson's Second 
 Set of Madrigals, t6i8. 
 
 HER hair the net of golden wire, 
 ■VMierein my heart, led by my wandering eyes, 
 So fast entangled is that in no wise 
 It can, nor will, again retire ; 
 But rather will in that sweet bondage die 
 Than break one hair to gain her liberty. 
 
 From Christ Church MS, i. 5. 49. 
 
 HEY nonny no ! 
 Men are fools that wish to die ! 
 Is't not fine to dance and sing 
 When the bells of death do ring ? 
 
46 MORE LYRICS FROM THE SONG-BOOKS 
 
 Is't not fine to swim in wine, * 
 
 And turn upon the toe 
 
 And sing hey nonny no, 
 
 When the winds blow and the seas flow ? 
 
 Hey nonny no ! 
 
 Finis. Mr. Gyles. 
 
 From MS. Mus. Sch. F. 575. 
 
 HOLD, cruel Love, O hold ! I yield. 
 Withhold thy fatal dart ! 
 This is a chamber, not a field, 
 
 No place to strike a heart. 
 So oft thou hast my bosom cleft, 
 
 So- oft destroyed this park, 
 That all the harts that here are left 
 Scarce makes another mark. 
 
 From Thomas Campion's Two 
 Books <f Airs (cira 1613). 
 
 HOW easly wert thou chained, 
 Fond heart, by favours feigned ! 
 Why lived thy hopes in grace, 
 Straight to die disdained ? 
 But since thou'rt now beguiled 
 By love that falsely smiled, 
 In some less happy place 
 Mourn alone exiled. 
 My love still here increaseth. 
 And with my love my grief, 
 
OF THE ELIZABETHAN AGE. 47 
 
 While her sweet bounty ceaseth, 
 That gave my woes relief. 
 Yet 'tis no woman leaves me, 
 For such may prove unjust : 
 A goddess thus deceives me ! 
 Whose faith who could mistrust ? 
 
 A goddess so much graced 
 
 That Paradise is placed 
 
 In her most heav'nly breast, 
 
 Once by Love embraced. 
 
 But Love, that so kind proved, 
 
 Is now from her removed ; 
 
 Nor will he longer rest 
 
 Where no faith is loved. 
 
 If powers celestial wound us 
 
 And will not yield relief. 
 
 Woe then must needs confound us. 
 
 For none can cure our grief. 
 
 No wonder if I languish 
 
 Through burden of my smart : 
 
 It is no common anguish 
 
 From Paradise to part. 
 
 From Robert Jones' The Muses 
 Garden of Delights, 1610. 
 
 HOW many new years have grown old 
 Since first your servant old was new ! 
 How many long hours have I told 
 Since first my love was vowed to you ! 
 And yet, alas ! she doth not know 
 Whether her servant love or no. 
 
48 MORE LYRICS FROM THE S0N6-B00KS 
 
 How many walls as white as snoW, 
 And windows clear as any glass, 
 Have I conjured to tell you so, 
 Which faithfully performed was ! 
 And yet you'll swear you do not know 
 Whether your servant love or no. 
 
 How often hath my pale lean face, 
 With true characters of my love, 
 Petitioned to you for grace, 
 Whom neither sighs nor tears can move ! 
 
 cruel, yet do you not know 
 Whether your Servant love or no ? 
 
 And wanting oft a better token, 
 
 1 have been fain to send my heart, 
 Which now your cold disdain hath broken. 
 Nor can you heal't by any art : 
 
 O look upon't, and you shall know 
 Whether your servant love or no ? 
 
 From Campion and Rosseter's 
 Book of Airs, 1601. 
 
 T CARE not for these ladies 
 
 -'- That must be wooed and prayed, 
 
 Give me kind Amaryllis, 
 
 The wanton country maid : 
 Nature art disdaineth, 
 Her beauty is her own : 
 
 Her when we court and kiss, 
 
 She cries " Forsooth, let go ! " 
 
 But when we come where comfort is. 
 
 She never will say " No." 
 
OF THE ELIZABETHAN AGE. 49 
 
 If I love Amaryllis, 
 
 She gives me fruit and flowers ; 
 But if we love these ladies, 
 
 We must give golden showers. 
 Give them gold that sell love, 
 Give me the nut-brown lass, 
 
 Who when we court and kiss, 
 She cries " Forsooth, let go ! " 
 But when we come where comfort is, 
 She never will say " No." 
 
 These ladies must have pillows 
 
 And beds by strangers wrought ; 
 Give me a bower of willows. 
 
 Of moss and leaves uribought ; 
 And fresh Amaryllis, 
 With milk and honey fed, 
 
 Who when we court and kiss. 
 
 She cries " Forsooth, let go ! " 
 
 But when we come where comfort is. 
 
 She never will say " No." 
 
 From Thomas Bateson's Second 
 Set of Madrigals, 1618. 
 
 I HEARD a noise and wished for a sight, 
 I looked aside and did a shadow see, 
 Whose substance was the sum of my delight : 
 
 It came unseen and so it went from me, 
 But yet conceit persuaded my intent 
 There was a substance where the shadow went. 
 E 
 
so MORE LYRICS FROM THE SONG-BOOKS 
 
 I did not play Narcissus in conceit, 
 
 I did not see my shadow in a spring, 
 I knew my eyes were dimm'd with no deceit, 
 
 I saw the shadow of some worthy thing ; 
 
 For, as I saw the shadow passing by, 
 
 I had a glance of something in my eye : 
 Shadow or she, or both, or chuse you whether, 
 Blessed be the thing that brought the shadow hether! 
 
 From John Baktlet's Ain 
 ifioS. 
 
 T HEARD of late that Love was fall'n asleep ; 
 ■*• Too late, alas ! I find it was not so : 
 Methought I saw the litfle villain weep. 
 
 But thief! he laughs at them that wail in woe : 
 I dream'd his bow was broke and he was slain. 
 But lo ! awaked, I see all whole again. 
 
 His blinking eyes will ever be awake. 
 His idle bead is full of laughing toys, 
 
 His bow and shafts are tickle things to take, 
 It is no meddling with such apish boys ; 
 
 For they shall find, that in his fetters fall. 
 
 Love is a deadly thing to deal withal. 
 
 Yet where the wretch doth take a happy vein, 
 It is the kindest worm that ever was ; 
 
 But let him catch a coy conceit again, 
 In frantic fits he doth a fury pass : 
 
 So that, in sum, who hopes of happy joy, 
 
 Take heed of Love, it is a parlous boy. 
 
OF THE ELIZABETHAN AGE. 
 
 From Robert Jokes' Musical 
 Dream, 1609. 
 
 T KNOW not what, yet that I fed is much ; 
 -^ It came I know not when, it was not ever ; 
 Yet hurts I know not how, yet is it such 
 
 As I am pleased though it be cured never : 
 It is a wound that wasteth still in woe, 
 And yet I would not that it were not so. 
 
 Pleased with a thought that endeth with a sigh. 
 Sometimes I smile when tears stand in my eyes, 
 
 Yet then and there such sweet contentment lieth 
 Both when and where my sweet sour torment lies : 
 
 O, out alas ! I cannot long endure it, 
 
 And yet, alas ! I care not when I cure it. 
 
 But, well-a-way, methinks I am not she 
 That wonted was these fits as foul to scorn : 
 
 One and the same, even so I seem to be, 
 As lost I live, yet of myself forlorn. 
 
 What may this be that thus my mind doth move ? 
 
 Alas ! I fear, — God shield it be not love ! 
 
 From Thomas Campion's Foar/A 
 Book of Airs {cac. 1617). 
 
 I MUST complain, yet do enjoy my love ; 
 She is too fair, too rich in lovely parts : 
 Thence is my grief, for Nature, while she strove 
 
 With all her graces and divinest arts 
 To form her too too beautiful of hue, 
 She had no leisure left to make her true. 
 
Sa MOXE LYRICS FROM THE SONG-BOOKS 
 
 Should I, aggrieved, then wish she were less fair ? 
 
 That were repugnant to my own desires. 
 She is admired, new lovers still repair. 
 
 That kindles daily love's forgetful fires. 
 Rest, jealous thoughts, and thus resolve at last, — 
 She hath more beauty than becomes the chaste. 
 
 From John Danyel's Songs for 
 the Lute, Viol and Voice, 
 1606. 
 
 T F I could shut the gate against my thoughts 
 -^ And keep out sorrow from this room within. 
 Or memory could cancel all the notes 
 
 Of my misdeeds, and I unthink my sin : 
 How free, how clear, how clean my soul should lie, 
 Discharged of such a loathsome company ! 
 
 Or were there other rooms without my heart 
 That did not to my conscience join so near. 
 
 Where I niight lodge the thoughts of sin apart 
 That I might not their clam'rous crying hear ; 
 
 What peace, what joy, what ease should I possess, 
 
 Freed from their horrors that my soul oppress ! 
 
 But, O my Saviour, who my refuge art. 
 Let thy dear mercies stand 'twixt them and me, 
 
 And. be the wall to separate my heart 
 So that I may at length repose me free ; 
 
 That peace, and joy, and rest may be within. 
 
 And I remain divided from my sin. 
 
OPI THE ELIZABETHAN AGE. 53 
 
 From Thomas Bateson 's Second 
 Setof Madrigals,\(>\Z. (Com- 
 pared with Christ Church 
 MS., I. s. 49.) 
 
 IF I seek to enjoy the fruits of my pain, 
 She careless denies me with words of disdain ; ' 
 Yet so must I love her 
 That nothing can ease ' me or move her. 
 Alas, why contend I, why strive I in vain. 
 The water to mingle 
 With oil that is frail ' and loves to be single ? 
 
 'Tis not Love but Fate, whose doom I abide. 
 
 You powers and you planets which destinies guide. 
 
 Change your opposition ; 
 
 It fits heavenly powers to be mild of condition. 
 
 You * only can alter her scorn ' and her pride 
 
 Who me now disdaineth : 
 
 For women can tell when the right planet reigneth. 
 
 1 "With words of disdain" is the reading of the MS. — 
 Bateson gives " with endles disdaine." 
 » So MS. — Bateson " can either remoue me or moue her." 
 ' So MS. — Bateson " ayre." 
 
 4 Bateson omits the last three verses. 
 
 5 MS. "storme." 
 
54 .WOX£ LYRICS FROM THE SONG-BOOKS 
 
 From William Byrd's Songs of 
 Sundry Natures, 1589. 
 
 IF in thine heart thou nourish ill, 
 And give all to thy lust, 
 Then sorrows sharp and griefs at length 
 
 Endure offeree thou must : 
 But if that reason rule thy will, 
 
 And govern aU thy mind, 
 A blessed life then shalt thou lead 
 And fewest dangers find. 
 
 From Thomas Campion's Third 
 Book of Airs (circ 1617). 
 
 IF love loves truth then women do not love, 
 Their passions all are but dissembled shows : 
 Now kind and free of favour if they prove. 
 Their kindness straight a tempest overthrows. 
 Then as a seaman the poor lover fares ; 
 The storm drowns him ere he can drown his cares. 
 
 But why accuse I women that deceive ? 
 Blame then the foxes for their subtle wile ! 
 They first from Nature did their craft receive ; 
 It is a woman's nature to beguile. 
 Yet some, I grant, in loving steadfast grow ; 
 But such by use are made, not Nature, so. 
 
OF THE ELIZABETHAN AGE. SS 
 
 O why had Nature power at once to frame 
 Deceit and Beauty, traitors both to Love ? 
 O would Deceit had died when Beauty came 
 With her divineness every heart to move ! 
 Yet do we rather wish, whate'er befall. 
 To have fair women false than none at all. 
 
 From Campion and Rosseter's 
 Book of Airs, i6oi. 
 
 IF she forsake me, I must die : 
 ShaUIteUherso? 
 Alas, then straight will she reply 
 
 " No, no, no, no, no ! " 
 If I disclose my desperate state. 
 She will but make sport thereat. 
 And more unrelenting grow. 
 
 What heart can long such pains abide ? 
 
 Fie upon this love ! 
 I would adventure far and wide, 
 
 If it would remove ; 
 But love will still my steps pursue, 
 I cannot his ways eschew : 
 
 Thus still helpless hopes I prove. 
 
 I do my love in lines commend. 
 
 But, alas, in vain ; 
 The costly gifts that I do send, 
 
 She returns again : 
 Thus still is my despair procured. 
 And her malice more assured : 
 
 Then come, death, and end my pain ! 
 
S6 MOJIB LYRICS FROM THE SONG-BOOKS 
 
 From MS, Mus. Sch. F. 575. 
 
 IF when I die, to Hell's eternal shade 
 As an idolater condemned I be, 
 Because a mortal beauty that doth fade 
 I have too long adored in cruel thee ; 
 Think not to scape, for, for thy tyranny, 
 Thou there shalt be condemned as well as I. 
 
 From RtcHARD Carlton's Ma- 
 drigals, 1601. 
 
 IF women can be courteous when they list, 
 And when they list disdainful and unkind ; 
 If they can bear affection in their fist 
 
 And sell their love as they the market find ; 
 'Twere not amiss, while Smithfield fair doth hold, 
 That jades and drabs together all were sold. 
 
 From John Attey's First Book 
 of Airs, 1622. 
 
 IN a grove of trees of myrtle 
 Venus met fair Myrrha's child : 
 " Kiss," quoth she, " my pretty turtle ! " 
 
 But her hopes he did beguile 
 With " No, no, tio, no, no, no, no T" 
 
OF THE ELIZABETHAN AGE. S7 
 
 " Come, O come, my dearest treasure, 
 
 And look babies ' in my eyes : 
 Cull and kiss, enjoy thy pleasure : " 
 
 But her kindness he denies 
 With " No, no, no, no, no, no, no ! " 
 
 " Loutish lad, come learn to venture 
 
 On the ivory breast of love, 
 I dare stay the worst encounter : " 
 
 But her words as wind did prove, 
 With " No, no, no, no, no, no, no ! " 
 
 " Shall then love be thus abused 
 
 By the beauty of a boy ? 
 Shall my temple be refused, 
 
 Will Adonis still be coy 
 With ' No, no, no, no, no, no, no ? ' 
 
 " Then I vow that beauty ever 
 
 Shall neglected be of love ; 
 Let the foolish boy persever. 
 
 He the folly now shall prove 
 Of ' No, no, no, no, no, no, no 1 '" 
 
 From William Byrd's Psalms, 
 Sonnets, and Songs, 1588. 
 
 IN fields abroad, where trumpets shrill do sound, 
 Where glaives and shields do give and take the 
 knocks. 
 Where bodies dead do overspread the ground. 
 And friends to foes are common butchers' blocks ; 
 
 1 "Look babies in the eyes," — peer amorously in a mistress' 
 eyes. 
 
S8 MORE LYRICS FROM THE SONG-BOOICS 
 
 A gallant shot, well managing his piece, 
 In my conceit deserves a golden fleece. 
 
 Amid the seas a gallant ship set out, 
 Wherein nor men nor yet munition lacks, 
 
 In greatest winds that spareth not a clout. 
 But cuts the waves in spite of weather's wracks, 
 
 Would force a swain that comes of cowards' kind 
 
 To change himself and be of noble mind. 
 
 Who makes his seat a stately stamping steed, 
 Whose neighs and plays are princely to behold, 
 
 Whose courage stout, whose eyes are fiery red. 
 Whose joints well-knit, whose harness all of gold. 
 
 Doth well deserve to be no meaner thing 
 
 Than Persian knight whose horse made him a king. 
 
 By that bedside where sits a gallant dame. 
 Who casteth off her brave and rich attire, 
 
 Whose petticoat sets forth as fair a frame 
 As mortal men or gods can well desire ; 
 
 Who sits and sees her petticoat unlaced, — 
 
 I say no more, the rest are all disgraced. 
 
 From Martin Pkerson's Pri 
 vote Music, 162a 
 
 He} T S not that my fancy's Queen, 
 ■»■ In the brightness of her rays 
 
 Passing summer's cheerest days, 
 That comes tripping o'er the green ? 
 
 * There are no prefixes in old ed. 
 
OP THE EUZABETHAN AGE. SS 
 
 She. Is* not that my shepherd swain 
 Sprightly clad in lovely blue, 
 Fairest of the fairest crew, 
 That comes gliding o'er the plain ? 
 
 Both, It is my love, it is my love. 
 
 And thus and thus we meet, 
 And thus and thus we greet, 
 
 Happier than the gods above : 
 
 Meeting may we love for ever, 
 
 Ever love and never sever ! 
 
 From Campion and Rosseter's 
 Book of Airs, 1601. 
 
 IT fell on a summer's day. 
 While sweet Bessy sleeping lay, 
 In her bower, on her bed, 
 Light with curtains shadowed, 
 Jamy came : she him spies, 
 Opening half her heavy eyes. 
 
 Jamy stole in through the door. 
 
 She lay slumb'ring as before ; 
 
 Softly to her he drew near, 
 
 She heard him, yet would not hear : 
 
 Bessy vowed not to speak, 
 
 He resolved that dump to break. 
 
 ^ The second stanza is printed in old ed. as part of another 
 song. 
 
6o MORE LYRICS FROM THE SONG-BOOKS 
 
 First a soft kiss he doth take, 
 She lay still and would not wake ; 
 Then his hands leam'd to woo, 
 She dreamt not what he would do, 
 But still slept, while he smiled 
 To see love by sleep beguiled. 
 
 Jamy then began to play, 
 Bessy as one buried lay, 
 Gladly still through this sleight 
 Deceived in her own deceit ; 
 And since this trance begoon, 
 She sleeps every afternoon. 
 
 From Robert Jones' The Muses' 
 Garden of Delights, i6ia. 
 
 JOY in thy hope, the earnest of thy love, 
 For so thou mayst enjoy thy heart's desire : 
 True hopes things absent do as present prove, 
 And keep alive love's still-renewing fire. 
 
 But of thy hope let silence be the tongue, 
 And secresy the heart of loving fire ; 
 For hopes revealed may thy hopes prolong 
 Or cut them off in prime-time of desire. 
 
 Sweet are those hopes that do themselves enjoy, 
 As vowed to themselves to live and die ; 
 Sweetest those joys and freest from annoy 
 That waken not the eye of jealousy. 
 
 L'Envoy. 
 Thy love is not thy love if not thine own, 
 And so it is not if it once be known. 
 
OF THE ELIZABETHAN AGE. 6i 
 
 From John Forbes' Cantus, 
 Songs and Fdncias, 1661 (com- 
 pared with Advocates' Library 
 MS. s. 2. 14- ) 
 
 JOY to the person of my love ! 
 Altho' she me disdain, 
 Fixed are my thoughts and may not move ; 
 And yet I love in vain. 
 Shall I lose the sight 
 Of my joy and heart's delight ? 
 Or shall I leave my suit ? 
 Shall I strive to touch? 
 Oh no, it were too much : 
 She is forbidden fruit. 
 Oh woe is me 
 That ever I did see 
 The beauty that did me bewitch ! 
 Yet out, alas, 
 I must forego that face. 
 The treasure I esteemed so rich.' 
 
 Oh shall I range into some dale, 
 Or to the mountains mourn ? 
 Shall' Echo still resound my tale. 
 Or whither shall I turn .? 
 
 1 Both Forbes and the MS. give " much." 
 
 2 So the line stands in the MS. — Forbes gives "Sad echoes 
 shal resound my tale." 
 
6a MORE LYRICS FROM THE SONG-BOOKS 
 
 Shall' I by her live 
 
 That no life to me will give 
 
 But deeply wounds my heart ? 
 
 If ' I fly away, 
 
 Oh will she not cry "Stay, 
 
 Thy sorrows I'll convert " ? 
 
 Oh no, no, no, 
 
 She will not once say so ; 
 
 But comfortless I must be gone. 
 
 Yet altho" she be 
 
 So fro ward* unto me, 
 
 I'll love her or I will' love none. 
 
 Oh that I might but understand 
 
 The causes' of her hate 
 
 To him would' be at her command 
 
 In love, in life, in state ! 
 
 Then should I no more 
 
 In heart be grieved so sore. 
 
 Nor fed with discontent. 
 
 But since that I have loved 
 
 1 " Shall I . . give." This is the reading of the MS. Forbes 
 reads: — 
 
 "Shall I buy that love 
 No life to rae will give," &C. 
 The line " But deeply wounds my heart " is omitted in the MS. 
 3 " If I fly . . convert." So the MS. Forbes reads :— 
 " If I flee away 
 She will not to me say stay 
 My soq-ows to convert." 
 
 3 So the MS.— Forbes " tho'." 
 
 4 So the MS.— Forbes " thrawart." 
 
 So the MS.— Forbes "shal." 
 
 e So the MS. — Forbes " reasons." 
 
 1 So Forbes.- MS. " him that would be." 
 
OF THE ELIZABETHAN AGE. 63 
 
 A maid that hath me proved * 
 
 Unworthy, I do repent. 
 
 Something unkind 
 
 Hath settled in her mind, 
 
 That caused her to bate me so. 
 
 Sweet saint," unto me be but half so kind 
 
 As let me the occasion know. 
 
 Thousand fortunes fall to her share ! 
 
 Tho' she has rejected me 
 
 And filled my heart' full of despair, 
 
 Yet shall I constant be ; 
 
 For she is the dame 
 
 My tongue* shall ne'er defame,' 
 
 Fair branch of modesty. 
 
 Chaste of ° heart and mind. 
 
 Oh were she half so kind. 
 
 Then would she pity me ! 
 
 Sweet, turn at last ; 
 
 Be kind as thou art chaste, 
 
 And let me in thy bosom dwell : 
 
 So shall we gain 
 
 The pleasure of Love's pain. 
 
 Till then, my dearest dear,' farewell. 
 
 ' Forbes " that so hath prov'd." — ^The MS. reads: — 
 " A Maid that hath me prov'de, 
 And worthie I do " &o. 
 
 2 "Sweet . . . know." So the MS. — Forbes gives: — 
 
 " Sweet, seem to me but half so kind to be 
 Or let me " &c. 
 
 3 So Forbes. — MS. "my sad heart." 
 
 4 So Forbes.— MS. " That my tongue." 
 
 5 "Ne'er defame" is the reading of the MS. Forbes gives 
 evername." * So Forbes. — MS. "in." 
 
 ' So the MS. — Forbes "love." (I have not noticed all the 
 
64 MORE LYRICS FROM THE SONG-BOOKS 
 
 From Orlando Gibbons' First 
 Set of Madrigals, 1612. 
 
 T AIS, now old, that erst attempting ' lass, 
 •*— ' To Goddess Venus consecrates her glass ; 
 For she herself hath now no use of one, 
 No dimpled cheeks hath she to gaze upon : 
 She cannot see her springtide damask grace, 
 Nor dare she look upon her winter face. 
 
 From Thomas Greaves' Songs 
 of Sundry Kinds, 1604. 
 
 LET dread of pain for sin in after-time, 
 Let shame to see thyself ensnared so, 
 Let grief conceived for foul accursed crime, 
 
 Let hate of sin the worker of thy woe, 
 With dread, with shame, with grief, with hate enforce 
 To dew thy cheeks with tears of deep remorse. 
 
 So hate of sin shall cause God's love to grow, 
 So grief shall harbour hope within thy heart, 
 
 So dread shall cause the flood of joy to flow. 
 So shame shall send sweet solace to thy smart : 
 
 So love, so hope, so joy, so solace sweet 
 
 Shall make thy soul in heavenly bliss to fleet.' 
 
 various readings ; but In some instances have silently followed the 
 printed copy. ) 
 
 1 I suspect that this is a misprint for "all-tempting." 
 
 » Float. 
 
OP THE ELIZABETHAN AGE. 65 
 
 Woe where such hate doth no such love allure ! 
 
 Woe where such grief doth make no hope proceed ! 
 Woe where such dread doth no such joy procure ! 
 
 Woe where such shame doth no such solace breed ! 
 Woe where no hate, no grief, no dread, no shame, 
 Doth neither love, hope, joy, or solace frame ! 
 
 From Christ Church MS. K. 3, 
 43-S. (Music by Thomas 
 Ford.) 
 
 LET not thy blackness move thee to despair ; 
 Black women are beloved of men that's fair. 
 What if thy hair her flaxen brightness lack ? 
 Thy face is comely though thy brow be black. 
 
 From Robert Jones' First Book 
 of Songs and Airs, i6oi. 
 
 LIE down, poor heart, and die awhile for grief. 
 Think not this world will ever do thee good ; 
 Fortune forewarns thou look to thy relief, 
 
 And sorrow sucks upon thy living blood : 
 Then this is all can help thee of this hell. 
 Lie down and die, and then thou shalt do well. 
 
 Day gives his light but to thy labours' toil. 
 And night her rest but to thy weary bones ; 
 
 Thy fairest fortune's ' followed with a foil. 
 
 And laughing ends but with thine" after-groans : 
 
 And this is all can help thee of thy hell. 
 
 Lie down and die, and then thou shalt do well. 
 
 ' Old ed. " fortune foUowes. " ^ Old ed. "their." 
 
 F 
 
66 MORE LYRICS FROM THE SONG-BOOKS 
 
 Patience doth pine and pity ease no pain, 
 Time wears the thoughts, but nothing helps the 
 mind; 
 
 Dead and alive, alive and dead again, 
 These are the fits that thou art like to find : 
 
 And this is all can help thee of thy hell. 
 
 Lie down and die, and then thou shalt do well. 
 
 From Richard Carlton's 
 Madrigals, 1601. 
 
 LIKE as the gentle heart itself bewrays 
 In doing gentle deeds with frank delight, 
 Even so the baser mind itself displays 
 In cankered malice and revengeful spite. 
 
 From Martin Peerson's Pri- 
 vate Music, 1620. (Words 
 by Sir Philip Sidney.) 
 
 LOCK up, fair lids, the treasure of my heart. 
 Preserve those beams this age's only light ; 
 To her sweet sense, sweet Sleep, some ease impart, 
 Her sense too weak to bear her spirit's might. 
 And while, O sleep, thou closest up her sight. 
 Her sight ' where Love doth forge his fairest dart, 
 
 O harbour all her parts in easeful plight ; 
 Let no strange dream make her fair body start. 
 
 » Old ed. " light." 
 
OF THE ELIZABETHAN AGE. 
 
 But yet, O dream, if thou wilt not depart 
 
 ' In this rare subject from thy common right, 
 
 But wilt thyself in such a seat delight, 
 Then take my shape and play a lover's part : 
 Kiss her from me, and say unto her sprite, 
 Till her eyes shine I live in darkest night. 
 
 From Martin Peerson's Pri- 
 vate Musict 1620. 
 
 LOVE her no more, herself she doth not love : 
 Shame and the blackest clouds of night 
 Hide her for ever from thy sight. 
 O day, why do thy beams in her eyes move ? 
 Fly her, dear honoured friend, do so ; 
 She'U be the cause of much much woe. 
 Alas, she will undo thee. 
 Her love is fatal to thee : 
 Curse her then and go ! 
 
 From Robert Jones' First Set 
 of Madrigals, 1607. 
 
 LOVE, if a God thou art, 
 Then evermore thou must 
 Be merciful and just : 
 Then wherefore doth thy dart 
 Wound me alone and not my lady's heart .■' ' 
 
 1 Only the first five lines are given in the song-book. The rest 
 is from Davison's Poetical Rhapsody. 
 
68 MORE LYRICS FROM THE SONG-BOOKS 
 
 If merciful, then why 
 
 Am I to pain reserved, 
 
 That have thee truly served ; 
 
 When she, that by thy power sets not a -fly. 
 
 Laughs thee to scorn and lives in liberty ? 
 
 Then, if a God thou wilt accounted be, 
 Heal me like her, or else wound her like me. 
 
 From Walter Porter's Ma- 
 drigals and Airs, 1632. 
 
 LOVE in thy youth, fair maid ; be wise, 
 Old Time will make thee colder, 
 And though each morning new arise 
 
 Yet we each day grow older. 
 Thou as heaven art fair and young, 
 
 Thine eyes like twin stars shining : 
 But ere another day be sprung, 
 
 All these will be declining. 
 Then winter comes with all his fears 
 
 And all thy sweets shall borrow ; 
 Too late then wilt thou shower thy tears. 
 
 And I too late shaU sorrow. 
 
 FromTHOMAsCAMPlON's Fourth 
 Book of Airs (axe. 1617). 
 
 LOVE me or not, love her I must or die ; 
 Leave me or not, follow her needs must I. 
 O that her grace would my wished comforts give 1 
 How rich in her, how happy 1 should live ! 
 
OF THE ELIZABETHAN AGE. 
 
 69 
 
 All my desire, all my delight should be 
 Her to enjoy, her to imite with me ; 
 Envy should cease, her would I love alone : 
 Who loves by looks is seldom true to one. 
 
 Could I enchant, and that it lawful were, 
 Her would I charm softly that none should hear ; 
 But love enforced rarely yields firm content : 
 So would I love that neither should repent. 
 
 From Add. MS. lo, 338. 
 
 Phoebe and Endymion. 
 
 Phoebe. T OVELY shepherd, ope thine eye ; 
 
 -L-. Sleep is loss when I stand by. 
 Endym. Who's that who does forbid me sleep ? 
 
 Has the wolf dispersed my sheep ? 
 Phoebe. I keep thy flocks ; they feed secure and 
 free: 
 
 Would I could guard my heart as well from 
 thee. 
 Endym. I blush to hear of love. 
 Phoebe. And I 
 
 Grieve to see thy cruelty. 
 Endym. As yet I have no cares, but can 
 
 To my homely oaten reed 
 
 Sing the praises of great Pan ; 
 
 But love, they say, does sorrow breed. 
 Phasbe. Peevish lad, canst thou disdain 
 
 The silver goddess of the night, 
 
70 MORE LYRICS FROM THE SONG-BOOKS 
 
 When with all her starry train 
 
 She comes to bring thee full delight ? 
 
 Follow me unto my bed, 
 
 Or in revenge I'll kiss thee dead. 
 Endym. I am but young, fair queen, and do not 
 know 
 
 Whether there be a god of love or no. 
 Phabe. I'll shew thee Cupid, boy, and he 
 
 Every day shall play with thee ; 
 
 But the night belongs to me. 
 
 Bid Latmos then adieu ; 
 
 On that cold mount spend not thine age's 
 prime : 
 
 Thou'st higher hills to climb. 
 
 From Thomas Morlev's Tht 
 First Book of Airs, 1600. 
 
 MISTRESS mine, well may you fare ! 
 Kind be your thoughts and void of care, 
 Sweet Saint Venus be your speed 
 That you may in love proceed. 
 CoU me and clip and kiss me too. 
 So so so so so so true love should do. 
 
 This fair morning, sunny bright, 
 That gives life to love's delight, 
 Every heart with heat inflames, 
 And our ' cold affection blames. 
 Coll me and clip and kiss me too, 
 So so so so so [so] true love should do. 
 
 > Olded. "out." 
 
OF THE ELIZABETHAN AGE. 71 
 
 In these woods are none but birds, 
 They can speak but silent words ; 
 They are pretty harmless things, 
 They will shade us with their wings. 
 Coll tne and clip and kiss me too, 
 So so so so so [so] true love should do. 
 
 Never strive nor make no noise, 
 'Tis for foolish girls and boys ; 
 Every childish thing can say 
 ' Go to, how now, pray away ! ' 
 Coll me and clip and kiss me too. 
 So so so so so [so] true love should do. 
 
 From John Dowland's Second 
 Book of Airs, 1600. 
 
 MOURN, mourn ! day is with darkness fled I 
 What heaven then governs earth ? 
 O none ; but hell in heaven's stead 
 
 Chokes with his mists our mirth. 
 Mourn, mourn ! look now for no more day. 
 
 Nor night but that from hell ; 
 Then all must, as they may. 
 
 In darkness learn to dwell : 
 But yet this change must needs change our delight. 
 That thus the sun should harbour with the night. 
 
78 MORE LYRICS FROM THE SONG-BOOKS 
 
 From Thomas Bateson's First 
 Set of English Madrigals, 
 1604. 
 
 MUSIC, some think, no music is 
 Unless she sing of clip and kiss, 
 And bring to wanton tunes " Fie, fie !" 
 Or " Tih-ha tah-ha ! » or " I'll cry ! " 
 But let such rhymes no more disgrace 
 Music sprung of heavenly race. 
 
 From Robert Jones' A Musical 
 Dream, 1609. 
 
 MY complaining is but feigning, 
 All my love is but in jest ; 
 
 (Fa, la, la !) 
 And my courting is but sporting. 
 In most shewing meaning least. 
 
 (Fa, la, la!) 
 
 Outward sadness inward gladness 
 Representeth in my mind ; 
 
 (Fa, la, la !) 
 In most feigning most obtaining, 
 Such good faith in love I find. 
 
 j(Fa,la,la!) 
 
 Towards ladies this my trade is, 
 Two minds in one breast I wear ; 
 
 (Fa, la, la !) 
 And, my measure at my pleasure, 
 Ice and flame my face doth bear. 
 
 (Fa, la, la !) 
 
OF THE ELIZABETHAN AGE. 73^ 
 
 From Add. MS, 17790. (Set to 
 music by William Byrd.) 
 
 MY little sweet darling, my comfort and joy, 
 (Sing lullaby, lulla !) 
 In beauty surpassing the princes of Troy, 
 
 (Sing luUaby, luUa !) 
 Now suck, child, and sleep, child, thy mother's sweet 
 boy ! 
 (Sing lullaby, lulla!) 
 The gods bless and keep thee from cruel annoy ! 
 Sing lulla, lulla, sweet baby, 
 Lulla, lulla, sweet baby, 
 Lullaby, lulla. 
 
 From Thomas Bateson's Second 
 Set of Madrigals, 1618. 
 
 MY mistress after service due 
 Demanded if indeed my love were true. 
 I said it was ; then she replied. 
 That I must hate 
 Whom she defied, 
 And so myself above the rest, 
 Whom she (she swore) did most of all detest. 
 In sooth, said I, you see I hate myself. 
 Who sets my love on such a peevish elf. 
 
74 MORE LYRICS FROM THE SONG-BOOKS 
 
 From Christ Church MS. K. 3. 
 43-5. (Music by Thomas 
 Ford. ) 
 
 MY sins are like the hairs upon my head 
 And raise their audit to as high a score. 
 In this they differ : they do daily shed, 
 But ah my sins grow daily more and more : 
 If by my hairs thou number out my sins, 
 Heaven make me bald before that day begins. 
 
 From Oklando Gibbons' First 
 Set of Madrigals, i6i2. 
 
 NAY, let me weep, though others' tears be spent ; 
 Though all eyes dried be, let mine be wet ; 
 Unto thy grave 111 pay this yearly rent. 
 
 Thy hfeless corse demands of me this debt : 
 I owe more tears than ever corse did crave, 
 I'll pay more tears than e'er was paid to grave. 
 
 Ne'er let the sun with his deceiving light 
 Seek to make glad these wat'ry eyes of mine ; 
 
 My sorrow suits with melancholy night, 
 I joy in dole, in languishment I pine : 
 
 My dearest friend is set, he was my sun. 
 
 With whom my mirth, my joy, and all is done. 
 
OF THE ELIZABETHAN AGE. 75 
 
 Yet if that age had frosted o'er his head, 
 Or if his face had furrow'd been with years, 
 
 I would not thus bemoan that he is dead, 
 I might have been more niggard of my tears : 
 
 But O the sun new-rose is gone to bed, 
 
 And hlies in the spring-time hang their head. 
 
 From Thomas Campion's The. 
 Description of a Masque pre-t 
 sented iefore the King's Ma- 
 jesty at Whitehall, 1607. 
 
 NEITHER buskin now, nor bays, 
 Challenge I ; a lady's praise 
 Shall content my proudest hope : 
 Their applause was all my scope, 
 And to their shrines properly 
 Revels dedicated be : 
 Whose soft ears none ought to pierce 
 But with smooth and gentle verse. 
 Let the tragic poem swell, 
 Raising raging fiends from hell ; 
 And let epic dactyls range 
 Swelling seas and countries strange : 
 Little room small things contains, 
 Easy praise quits easy pains. 
 Suffer them whose brows do sweat 
 To gain honour by the great ; ' 
 It's enough if men me name 
 A retailer of the same. 
 
 • " By the great, " — wholesale. 
 
76 MORE LYRICS FROM THE SONG-BOOKS 
 
 From Thomas Weelkes' Madri- 
 gals of Five and Six Parts, 
 1600. 
 
 NOELL, adieu, adieu ! thou Court's delight, 
 Upon whose locks the Graces sweetly played ; 
 Now thou art dead our pleasure dies outright. 
 
 For who can joy when thou in dust art laid ? 
 Bedew, my notes, his death-bed with your tears. 
 Time helps some grief, no time your griefs outwears. 
 
 From John Dowland's Second 
 Book of Songs or Airs, i6oo. 
 
 N' 
 
 [OW cease, my wand'ring eyes. 
 Strange beauties to admire ; 
 In change least comfort lies, 
 Long joys yield long desire : 
 One faith, one love, 
 Make our frail pleasures eternal and in sweetness 
 prove ; 
 
 New hopes, new joys, 
 Are still with sorrow declining unto deep annoys. 
 
 One man hath but one soul, 
 
 Which Art cannot divide ; 
 If all one soul must love, 
 
 Two loves must be denied : 
 
OF THE ELIZABETHAN AGE. 7; 
 
 One soul, one love 
 By faith and merit united cannot remove : 
 
 Distracted sprites 
 Are ever changing, and hapless in their delights. 
 
 Nature two eyes hath given. 
 
 All beauty to impart 
 As well in earth as heaven, 
 
 But she hath given one heart ; 
 That though we see 
 Ten thousand beauties, yet in us One should be, 
 
 One steadfast love. 
 Because our hearts stand fixt although our eyes do 
 move. 
 
 From Thomas Robinson's ^«w 
 Cithern Lessons, 1609. 
 
 NOW, Cupid, look about thee. 
 Thy kingdom is decaying ; 
 Young men begin to flout thee. 
 
 And turn their deeds to saying : 
 In men there is no passion. 
 Love is so out of fashion. 
 
78 MOXE LYRICS FROM THE SONG-BOOKS 
 
 From Thomas Campion's The 
 Description of a Masque pre- 
 sented before the Kin^s Ma- 
 jesty at Whitehall, 1607. 
 
 NOW hath Flora robbed her bowers 
 To befriend this place with flowers : 
 
 Strow about, strow about ! 
 The sky rained never kindlier showers. 
 Flowers with bridals well agree, 
 Fresh as brides and bridegrooms be. 
 
 Strow about, strow about ! 
 And mix them with fit melody. 
 Earth hath no princelier flowers 
 Than roses white and roses red, 
 But they must stiU be mingled : 
 And as a rose new plucked from Venus' thorn, 
 So doth a bride her bridegroom's bed adorn. 
 
 Divers divers flowers affect 
 For some private dear respect : 
 
 Strow about, strow about ! 
 Let every one his own protect, 
 But he's none of Flora's friend 
 That will not the rose commend. 
 
 Strow about, strow about ! 
 Let princes princely flowers defend : 
 Roses, the garden's pride. 
 Are flowers for love and flowers for kings, 
 In courts desired and weddings : 
 And as a rose in Venus' bosom worn, 
 So doth a bridegroom his bride's bed adorn. 
 
OF THE ELIZABETHAN AGE. 79 
 
 From Francis Pilkington's 
 First Book of Songs or Airs, 
 1605. 
 
 NOW peep, bo-peep, thrice happy blest mine eyes ! 
 For I have found fair Phillis where she lies, 
 Upon her bed 
 With arms unspread, 
 AU fast asleep ; 
 UnmasVd her face, 
 Thrice happy grace ! 
 Farewell, my sheep : 
 Look to yourselves, new charge I must approve, 
 Phyllis doth sleep and I must guard my love. 
 
 Now peep, bo-peep, mine eyes to see your bliss, 
 Phillis' closed eyes attracts you her ^ to kiss. 
 
 O may I now 
 
 Perform my vow 
 
 Love's joy t' impart ! 
 
 Assay the while 
 
 How to beguile : 
 
 Farewell, faint heart. 
 Taken she is, new joys I must approve ; 
 Phyllis doth sleep and I will kiss my love. 
 
 Now peep, bo-peep ; be not too bold, my hand : 
 Wake not thy Phillis, fear she do withstand. 
 
 She stirs alas, 
 
 Alas, alas ! 
 
 I faint in sprite : 
 
 ' Olded. "hers." 
 
8o MORE LYRICS FROM THE SONG-BOOKS 
 
 She opes her eye, 
 
 Unhappy I ! 
 
 Farewell, delight ! 
 Awaked she is, new woes I must approve, 
 Phillis awakes and I must leave my love. 
 
 From Thomas Campion's 
 Fourth Book of Airs (circ. 
 1617). 
 
 OLOVE, where are thy shafts, thy quiver, and thy 
 bow? 
 Shall my wounds only weep and he ungaged go ? 
 Be just and strike him too that dares contemn thee so. 
 
 No eyes are like to thine, though men suppose thee 
 
 blind. 
 So fair they level when the mark they list to find ; 
 Then strike, O strike the heart that bears the cruel 
 
 mind. 
 
 Is my fond sight deceived, or do I Cupid spy 
 Close aiming at his breast by whom despised I die ? 
 Shoot home, sweet Love, and wound him that he may 
 not fly? 
 
 O then we both will sit in some unhaunted shade 
 And heal each other's wound which Love hath justly 
 
 made : 
 O hope, O thought too vain, how quickly dost thou 
 
 fade ! 
 
OF THE ELIZABETHAN AGE. 8i. 
 
 At large he wanders still, his heart is free from pain, 
 While secret sighs I spend and tears, but all in vain : 
 Yet, Love, thou knovvest, by right I should not thus 
 complain. 
 
 From Robert Jones' First Book 
 of Airs ^ 1601. 
 
 OMY poor eyes, the sun whose shine 
 Late gave you light, doth now decline 
 And, set to you, to others riseth. 
 She, who would sooner die than change, 
 Not fearing death, delights to range. 
 
 And now, O now, my soul despiseth. 
 
 Yet, O my heart, thy state is blest 
 To seek out rest in thy unrest, 
 
 Since thou her slave no more remainest ; 
 For she that bound thee sets thee free 
 Then when she first forsaketh thee : 
 
 Such, O such, right by wrong thou gainest. 
 
 Eyes, gaze no more ! heart, learn to hate ! 
 Experience tells you all too late 
 
 Fond woman's love with faith still warreth : 
 While true desert speaks, writes and gives. 
 Some groom the bargain nearer drives 
 
 And he, O he, the market marreth. 
 G 
 
82 MORE LYRICS FROM THE SONG-BOOKS 
 
 From Martin Peerson's Pri- 
 vate Music, 1620. 
 
 O PRECIOUS time, created by the might 
 Of His blest word that made all comely features, 
 And wisely parted into day and night 
 For the best use and service of the ^ creatures : 
 O woe is me that have misspent this treasure 
 In vain delight of fond and wicked pleasure ! 
 
 From John Coper ARio's/=a»cre/ 
 Tears, 1606. 
 
 O SWEET flower, too quickly fading. 
 Like a winter sunshine day ! 
 Poor pilgrim tired in the mid-way ! 
 Like the earth, itself half shading. 
 So thy picture shows to me 
 But only the one half of thee. 
 
 O dear joy, too swiftly flying 
 
 From thy love's enchanted eyes ! 
 
 Proud glory spread through the vast skies^ 
 Earth of more than earth envying i 
 O how wondrous hadst thou been 
 Had but the world thy whole life seen ! 
 
 iQy. "His"? 
 
OF THE ELIZABETHAN AGE. 83 
 
 From John Dowland's Thirii 
 Book of Songs or Airs, 1603. 
 
 OWHAT hath overwrought 
 My all-amazed thought ? 
 Or whereto am I brought, 
 That thus in vain have sought, 
 Till time and truth hath taught 
 I labour aU for nought ? 
 
 The day, I see, is clear. 
 But I am ne'er the near ;' 
 For grief doth still appear 
 To cross our merry cheer, 
 While I can nothing here 
 But winter all the year. 
 
 Cold, hold ! the sun will shine warm : 
 Therefore now fear no harm. 
 O. blessed beams, where beauty streams, 
 Happy, happy light, to love's dreams ! 
 
 ' ' ' Ne'er the near," — never the nearer. 
 
84 MORE LYRICS FROM THE SONG-BOOKS 
 
 From Gesta Graiorum : Grays 
 Inn Masque, 1594. (By 
 Thomas Campion. ) 
 
 A Hymn in Praise of Neptune. 
 
 OF Neptune's empire let us sing, 
 At whose command the waves obey ; 
 To whom the rivers tribute pay, 
 Down the high mountains sliding": 
 To whom the scaly nation yields 
 Homage for the crystal fields 
 
 Wherein they dwell : 
 And every sea-god pays a gem 
 Yearly out of his wat'ry cell 
 To deck great Neptune's diadem. 
 
 The Tritons dancing in a ring, 
 Before his palace-gates do make 
 The water with their echoes quake, 
 Like the great thunder sounding : 
 The sea-nymphs chaunt their accents shrill, 
 And the sirens, taught to kill 
 With their sweet voice. 
 Make ev'ry echoing rock reply. 
 Unto their gentle murmuring noise, 
 The praise of Neptune's empery. 
 
OF THE ELIZABETHAN AGE. 85 
 
 From Thomas Morley's 
 Madrigals to Four Voices, 
 1600. 
 
 ON a fair morning, as I came by the way, 
 Met I with a merry maid in the merry month of 
 May, 
 When a sweet love sings his lovely lay 
 And every bird upon the bush bechirps it up so gay. 
 With a heave and ho I with a heave and ho ! 
 Thy wife shall be thy master, I trow. 
 Sing, care away, care away, let the world go ! 
 Hey, lustily all in a row, all in a row, 
 Sing, care away, care away, let the world go ! 
 
 From Robert Jones' The Muses' 
 Garden of Delights, 1610. 
 
 ONCE did my thoughts both ebb and flow, 
 As passion did them move ; 
 Once did I hope, straight fear again, — 
 And then I was in love. 
 
 Once did I waking spend the night. 
 
 And tell how many minutes move. 
 Once did I wishing waste the day, — 
 
 And then I was in love. 
 
86 MORE. LYRICS PROM THE SONG-BOOKS 
 
 Once, by my carving true love's knot, 
 
 The weeping trees did prove 
 That wounds and tears were both our lot, — 
 
 And then I was in love. 
 
 Once did I breathe another's breath 
 
 And in my mistress move, 
 Once was I not mine own at all, — 
 
 And then I was in love. 
 
 Once wore I bracelets made of hair, 
 
 And collars did approve. 
 Once wore ray clothes made out of wax, — 
 
 And then I was in love. 
 
 Once did I sonnet to my saint, 
 
 My soul in numbers move, 
 Once did I tell a thousand lies, — 
 
 And then I was in love. 
 
 Once in my ear did dangling hang 
 
 A little turtle-dove, 
 Once, in a word, I was a fool, — 
 
 And then I was in love. 
 
 From Thomas Bateson's Second 
 Set of Madrigals, 1618. 
 
 ONE woman scarce of twenty 
 But hath of tears great plenty, 
 Which they pour out like fountains 
 That run down from the mountains : 
 
OF THE ELIZABETHAN AGE. 87 
 
 Yet all is but beguiling, 
 Their tears and eke their smiling. 
 I'll therefore never trust them. 
 Since nature hath so cursed them 
 That they can weep in smiling, 
 Poor fools thereby beguiling. 
 
 From Martin Peerson's Pri- 
 vate Music, 1620. 
 
 O' 
 
 The fairest of thy mother's kin, 
 O come, come, come abroad 
 
 And hear the shrill birds sing, 
 The air with tunes that load ! 
 
 It is too soon to go to rest. 
 
 The sun not midway yet to west : 
 The day doth miss thee 
 
 And wUl not part until it kiss thee." 
 
 " Were I as fair as you pretend, 
 Yet to an tmknown seld-seen ' friend 
 I dare not ope the door : 
 To hear the sweet birds sing 
 Oft proves a dangerous thing. 
 The sun may run his wonted race 
 And yet not gaze on my poor face. 
 
 The day may miss me : 
 Therefore depart, you shall not kiss me." 
 
 ' i.e., seldom seen. 
 
88 MORE LYRICS FROM THE SON&BOOKS 
 
 From Robert Jones' First Book 
 of Songs and Airs, 1601. 
 
 PERPLEXED sore am I : 
 Thine eyes' fair love, like Phoebus' brightest 
 beams, 
 Doth set my heart on fire and daze my sight ; 
 Yet do I live by virtue of those beams, 
 For when thy face is hid comes fearful night. 
 Then since my eyes cannot endure so heavenly spark. 
 Sweet, grant that I may still feel out my love by dark. 
 
 So shall I joyful be : 
 Each thing on earth that liveth by the sun 
 Would die if he in glory still appear : 
 Then let some clouds of pity overrun 
 That glorious face, that I with lively cheer 
 May stand up before thee ; 
 Or, since my eyes cannot endure so heavenly spark, 
 Sweet, grant that I may still feel out my love by dark. 
 
 From Add. MS. , 18936. 
 
 "PHILLIS, a herd-maid dainty, 
 
 ■*- Who hath no peer for beauty, 
 
 By Thyrsis was requested 
 
 To hear the wrongs wherewith his heart was wrested ; 
 
 But she Diana served 
 
 And would not hear how Love poor lovers sterved. 
 
OF THE ELIZABETHAN AGE. 89 
 
 Phillis, more white than hlies, 
 
 More fair than Amaryllis, 
 
 More cold than crystal fountain, 
 
 More hard than craggy rock or stony mountain, 
 
 O tiger fierce and spiteful, 
 
 Why hate'st thou Love sith Love is so delightful ? 
 
 From Campion and Rossetee's 
 Book of Airs, 1601. 
 
 "D EPROVE not love, though fondly thou hast lost 
 
 -L^ Greater hopes by loving : 
 
 Love calms ambitious spirits, from their breast 
 
 Dangers oft removing. 
 Let lofty humours mount up on high, 
 
 Down again like to the wind ; 
 While private thoughts bowed to love. 
 
 More peace and pleasure find. 
 
 Love and sweet beauty makes the stubborn mild, 
 
 And the coward fearless ; 
 The wretched miser's care to bounty turns ; 
 
 Cheering all things cheerless. 
 Love chains the earth and heaven, 
 
 Turns the spheres, guides the years in endless peace ; 
 The flowery earth through his power 
 
 Receives her due increase. 
 
90 MORE LYRICS FROM THE SONG-BOOKS 
 
 From Thomas Campion's Fourth 
 Book of Airs (circ. 1617). 
 
 RESPECT my faith, regard my service past, 
 The hope you winged call home to you at last ; 
 Great price it is that I in you shall gain. 
 So great for you hath been my loss and pain : 
 My wits I spent and time for you alone, 
 Observing you and losing all for one. 
 
 Some raised to rich estates in this time are 
 That held their hopes to mine inferior far ; 
 Such, scoffing me or pitying me, say thus, 
 " Had he not loved he might have lived like us." 
 O then, dear sweet, for love and pity's sake. 
 My love reward and from me scandal take. 
 
 From John Dowland's First 
 Book of Songs or Airs, IS97- 
 
 REST awhile, you cruel cares. 
 Be not more severe than love ; 
 Beauty kills and beauty spares, 
 And sweet smiles sad sighs remove. 
 Laura, fair queen of my delight, 
 Come, grant me love in love's despite j 
 And if I ever fail to honour thee. 
 Let this heavenly light I see 
 Be as dark as hell to me ! 
 
OF THE ELIZABETHAN AGE. 91 
 
 If I speak, my words want weight ; 
 Am I mute, my heart doth break ; 
 If I sigh, she fears deceit ; 
 Sorrow then for me must speak. 
 Cruel, unkind, with favour view 
 The wound that first was made by you ! 
 And if my torments feigned be, 
 
 Let this heavenly light I see 
 
 Be as dark as hell to me. 
 
 Never hour of pleasing rest 
 
 Shall revive my dying ghost 
 
 Till my soul hath repossest 
 
 The sweet hope which love hath lost. 
 
 Laura, redeem the soul that dies 
 
 By fury of thy murdering eyes ; 
 
 And if it proves unkind to thee 
 
 Let this heavenly light I see 
 
 Be as dark as hell to me. 
 
 From Add. MS, 15, 117. 
 
 A Dialogue. 
 
 1 C AY, fond Love, what seeks thou here 
 «--5 In the silence of the night ? 
 
 2 Here I seek those joys, my dear, 
 
 That in silence^ most delight. 
 
 1 Night's heavy humour calls to sleep. 
 
 2 But love's humour watch doth keep : 
 Let never humour happy prove 
 But that which only pleaseth love. 
 
 1 MS. "silent." 
 
93 MORE LYUICS FROM THE SONG-BOO/SS 
 
 From John Dowland's Third 
 Boot of Songs or Airs, 1603. 
 
 " O AY, Love, if ever thou didst find 
 *--^ A woman virith a constant mind." 
 
 " None but one." 
 " And what should that rare mirror be ?" 
 " Some goddess or some queen is She." 
 She, She, She, and only She, 
 She only queen of love and beauty. 
 
 " But could thy fiery poisoned dart 
 At no time touch her spotless heart, 
 
 Nor come near?" 
 " She is not subject to Love's bow j 
 Her eye commands, her heart saith ' No.' " 
 No, no, no, and only No, 
 One No another still doth follow. 
 
 " How might I that fair wonder know 
 That mocks desire with endless ' No ? '" 
 
 " See the moon 
 That ever in one change doth grow. 
 Yet still the same : and She is so." 
 So, so, so, and only So ! 
 From heaven her virtues she doth borrow. ^ 
 
 " To her then yield thy shafts and bow 
 That can command affections so." 
 
 " Love is free : 
 
OF THE ELIZABETHAN AGE. 93 
 
 So are her thoughts that vanquish thee. 
 There is no queen of love but She." 
 She, She, She, and only She, 
 She only queen of love and beauty. 
 
 From Campion and RossETER 'a 
 Book of Airs, 1601. 
 
 SEE where she flies enraged from me ! 
 View her when she intends despite, 
 The wind is not more swift than she. 
 Her fury moved such terror makes 
 As to a fearful guilty sprite 
 The voice of heaven's huge thunder-cracks : 
 But when her appeased mind yields to delight, 
 All her thoughts are made of joys, 
 Millions of delights inventing ; 
 Other pleasures are but toys 
 To her beauty's sweet contenting. 
 
 My fortune hangs upon her brow ; 
 
 For as she smiles or frowns on me. 
 
 So must my blown affections bow ; 
 
 And her proud thoughts too well do find 
 
 With what unequal tyranny 
 
 Her beauties do command my mind. 
 
 Though, when her sad planet reigns, 
 
 Froward she be, 
 
 She alone can pleasure move 
 
 And displeasing sorrow banish. 
 
 May I but still hold her love, 
 
 Let all other comforts vanish. 
 
94 MORE LYRICS FROM THE SONG-BOOKS 
 
 From Francis Pilkington's 
 First Set of Madrigals, 1614. 
 
 SEE where my love a-maying goes, 
 With sweet dame Flora sporting ! 
 She most alone with nightingales 
 
 In woods delights consorting. 
 Turn again, my dearest ! 
 
 The pleasant'st air's in meadows : 
 Else by the rivers let us breathe. 
 And kiss amongst the willows. 
 
 From William Corkine's 
 Second Book of Airs, 1612. 
 
 SHALL a smile or guileful glance. 
 Or a sigh that is but feigned. 
 Shall but tears that come by chance 
 Make me dote that was disdained ? 
 No ; I will no more be chained. 
 
 Shall I sell my freedom so, 
 
 Being now from Love remised ? 
 Shall I learn (what I do know 
 
 To my cost) that Love's disguised ? 
 
 No ; I will be more advised. 
 
 Must she fall, and I must stand ? 
 
 Must she fly, and I pursue her ? 
 Must I give her heart and land, 
 
 And, for nought, with them endue her ? 
 
 No ; first I will find her truer. 
 
OF THE ELIZABETHAN AGE. gs 
 
 From William Corkine's 
 Second Book of Airs, i6i2. , 
 
 SHALL I be with toys ^ deceived? 
 Can Love's bands be sealed with kisses ? 
 Cupid, of his eyes bereaved, 
 Yet in darkness seldom misses : 
 Let not dalljdng lose these blisses. 
 
 Sleep hath sealed their eyes and ears 
 That our loves so long have guarded : 
 
 Hymen hides your maiden fears, 
 Now my love may be rewarded : 
 Let my suit be now regarded. 
 
 From Rqbert Jones' UUimum 
 Vale, 1608. 
 
 SINCE just" disdain began to rise 
 And cry revenge for spiteful wrong, 
 What erst I prayed I now despise 
 And think my love was too-too long ; 
 I tread in dirt that scornful pride 
 Which in thy looks I have descried ; 
 Thy beauty is a painted skin 
 For fools to see their faces in. 
 
 1 Old ed. "joyes.'' 
 
 2 "Just" is the reading in Davison's Poeticat Rhapsody, 1602, 
 and Martin V&e!SorC% Private Music, 1620. — Jones gives "first." 
 
96 MORE LYRICS FROM THE SONG-BOOKS 
 
 Thine eyes, that some as stars esteem 
 
 From whence themselves, they say, take light, 
 
 Like to the foolish fire I deem 
 
 That leads men to their death by night ; 
 
 Thy words and oaths are light as wind, 
 
 And yet far lighter is thy mind ; 
 
 Thy friendship is a broken reed 
 
 That fails thy friend in greatest need. 
 
 From Robert Jones' First Set of 
 Madrigals, 1607. 
 
 SING, merry birds, your cheerful notes ! 
 For Progne you have seen 
 To come from Summer's Queen. 
 O tune, O tune your throats ! 
 Forgetting all cold Winter's harm, 
 Now may we perch on branches green, 
 And singing sit and not be seen. 
 
 From Thomas Morley's Plain 
 and Easy Introduction to 
 Practical Music, 1597. 
 
 SLEEP, O sleep, fond fancy. 
 My head, alas, thou tirest 
 With false delight of that which thou desirest. 
 Sleep, I say, fond fancy. 
 And leave my thoughts molesting : 
 Thy master's head hath need of sleep and resting. 
 
OF THE ELIZABETHAN AGE. 97 
 
 From Michael Este's Madri- 
 gals, 1604. 
 
 O LY thief, if so you will believe, 
 ^--^ It nought or little did me grieve. 
 That my true heart you had bereft, 
 Till that imkindly you it left : 
 Leaving you lose, losing you kill 
 That which I may forego so ill. 
 
 What thing more cruel can you do 
 Than rob a man and kill him too ? 
 Wherefore of love I ask this meed. 
 To bring you where you did this deed. 
 That there you may, for your amisses ' 
 Be damaged in a thousand kisses. 
 
 From Thomas Campion's Third 
 Book of Airs (circ. 1617). 
 
 SO quick, so hot, so mad is thy fond suit, 
 So rude, so tedious grown in urging me. 
 That fain I would with loss make thy tongue mute. 
 
 And yield some little grace to quiet thee : 
 An hour with thee I care not to converse. 
 For I would not be counted too perverse. 
 
 But roofs too hot would prove for me '■' all fire. 
 And hills too high for my unused pace ; 
 
 The grove is charged with thorns and the bold briar. 
 Grey snakes the meadows shroud in every place : 
 
 A yellow frog, alas ! will fright me so 
 
 As I should start and tremble as I go. 
 
 1 Faults. 2 Old ed. "men" 
 
 H 
 
98 MORE LYRICS FROM THE SONG-BOOKS 
 
 Since then I can on earth no fit room find, 
 In heaven I am resolved with you to meet : 
 
 Till then, for hope's sweet sake, rest your tired mind. 
 And not so much as see me in the street : 
 
 A heavenly meeting one day we shall have, 
 
 But never, as you dream, in bed or grave. 
 
 From Musica Transalpina, The 
 Second Book of Madrigals, 
 1597- 
 
 SO saith my fair and beautiful Lycoris, 
 When now and then she talketh 
 With me of love : 
 " Love is a sprite that walketh, 
 That soars and flies, 
 And none alive can hold him, 
 Nor touch him, nor behold him.'' 
 Yet when her eye she tumeth, 
 I spy where he sojourneth : 
 In her eyes there he flies. 
 But none can catch him 
 Till from her lips he fetch him. 
 
 From Thomas Campion's Fourth 
 Book of Airs (circ. 1617). 
 
 SO sweet is thy discourse to me, 
 <And so delightful is thy sight. 
 As I taste nothing right but thee : 
 
 O why invented Nature light } 
 Was it alone for Beauty's sake 
 That her graced words might better take ? 
 
OF THE ELIZABETHAN AGE. 99 
 
 No more can I old joys recall, 
 They now to me become unknown, 
 
 Not seeming to have been at all : 
 Alas, how soon is this love grown 
 
 To such a spreading height in me 
 
 As with it all must shadowed be ! 
 
 From Robert Jones' The Muses' 
 Garden of Delights, 1610. 
 
 SOFT, Cupid, soft, there is no haste. 
 For all unkindness gone and past ; 
 Since thou wilt needs forsake me so, 
 Let us part friends before thou go. 
 
 Still shalt thou have my heart to use, — 
 When ' I cannot otherwise chuse : 
 My life thou mayst command sans doubt. 
 Command, I say, — and go without. 
 
 And if that I do ever prove 
 False and unkind to gentle Love, 
 I'll not desire to live a day 
 Nor any longer — than I may. 
 
 m daily bless the little god,— 
 But not without a smarting rod. 
 Wilt thou still unkindly leave me ? 
 Now I pray God, — all ill go with thee ! 
 
 ^ Qy. " When otherwise I cannot chuse"? 
 
too MORE LYRICS FROM THE SONG-BOOKS 
 
 From Giles Farnaby's Can- 
 mmets, 1598. 
 
 SOMETIME she would and sometime not, 
 The more request the more disdain'd ; 
 Each woman hath her gift, God wot, 
 And ever had since Venus reign'd : 
 Though Vulcan did to Venus yield, 
 I would have men to win the field. 
 
 From John WiLByE's Second Set 
 <f Madrigals, 1609. 
 
 STAY, Corydon, thou swain. 
 Talk not so soon of dying ; 
 What, though thy heart be slain, 
 
 What, if thy love be flying ? 
 She threatens thee, but dare not strike ; 
 Thy nymph is light and shadow-like, 
 For if thou follow her shell fly from thee, 
 But if thou fly from her she'll follow thee. 
 
 From Thomas Bateson's First 
 Set of English Madrigals, 
 1604. 
 
 O WEET Gemma, when I first beheld thy beauty, 
 ^ I vowed thee service, honour, love and duty : 
 O then, I said, the best 
 Is hither come to make me blest ; 
 
OF THE ELIZABETHAN AG^. 
 
 But thou, alas ! sweet, thou 
 Dost not regard my vow : 
 Go, go, let me not see 
 Cruel, though fairest, thee. 
 
 Yet stay ! alway be chained to my heart 
 With links of love that we do never part ! 
 Then I'll not caU thee serpent, tiger, cruel, 
 But my sweet Gemma and my fairest jewel. 
 
 From Robert Jones' Ultimum 
 Vale, 1608. 
 
 SWEET, if you like and love me still 
 And yield me love for my good will, 
 And do not from your promise start 
 When your fair hand gave me your heart ; 
 
 If dear to you I be 
 
 As you are dear to me. 
 Then yours I am and will be ever : 
 Nor' time nor place my love shall sever. 
 But faithful still I will persever. 
 
 Like constant marble stone, 
 
 Loving but you alone. 
 
 But if you favour moe than one 
 
 (Who loves thee still and none but thee), 
 
 1 This is the reading in Davison's Poetical Rapsody, where 
 this song is printed with the heading " His farewell to his unkind 
 and inconstant mistress." — The songbook gives "No time nor 
 place ". 
 
102 MORE LYRICS FROM THE SONG-BOOKS 
 
 If Others do the harvest gain 
 That's due to me for all my pain ; 
 
 If that you love to range 
 
 And oft to chop and change, 
 Then get you some new-fangled mate ; 
 My doting love shall turn to hate, 
 Esteeming you (though too-too late) 
 
 Not worth a pebble stone, 
 
 Loving not me alone.' 
 
 From William Corkine's 
 Airs, i6io. 
 
 SWEET, let me go ! sweet, let me go ! 
 What do you mean to vex me so ? 
 Cease your pleading force ! 
 Do you think thus to extort remorse ? 
 Now, now ! no more ! alas, you overbear me. 
 And I would cry, — but some would hear, I fear me. 
 
 From Thomas Bateson's Second 
 Set of Madrigals, 1618. 
 
 SWEET, those trammels of your hair 
 Golden locks more truly are, 
 My thoughts locking to thy beauty. 
 Thus you do my captive mind 
 
 1 Olded, "Yet." 
 
 2 So Davison. — In the songbook the line stands "Loving 
 me not alone." 
 
OF THE ELIZABETHAN AGE. 
 
 From my dying body bind, 
 Only to you to do duty. 
 
 Oh, my dear, let it go free. 
 
 Or my body take to thee ! 
 
 So your captive you shall cherish ; 
 
 For if parted thus they lie, 
 
 Or my thoughts or I must die : 
 
 'Twill grieve thee if either perish. 
 
 From Christ Church MS. K. 3. 
 43-S- 
 
 SWEET, yet cruel unkind is she 
 To creep into my heart and murder me. 
 Yet those beams from her eyes 
 Dims Apollo at his rise ; 
 And all these purer graces, 
 All in their several places, 
 Begets a glory doth surprise 
 All hearts, all eyes. 
 For only she 
 Gives life eternity ; 
 
 And when her presence deigns but to appear 
 Never wish greater bliss than shines from her bright 
 
 sphere : 
 Her absence wounds, strikes dead all hearts with fear. 
 
I04 MORE LYRICS FROM THE SONG-BOOKS 
 
 From Alfonso Ferkabosco's 
 Airs, 1609. 
 
 A Dialogue between a Shepherd and a 
 Nymph. 
 
 1 ' I 'ELL me, O Love, when shall it be 
 
 -*■ That thy fair eyes shall shine on me, 
 Whom nothing else reviveth ? 
 
 2 I pray thee, shepherd, leave thy fears. 
 Drown not thy heart and eyes with tears ; 
 
 Such sighs my sense depriveth. 
 
 1 Alas, sweet nymph ! I cannot chuse, 
 
 Since thou estranged lives from me. 
 
 2 O do not me for that accuse ; 
 
 My love, my life, doth live in thee. 
 
 1 Alas what joy is in such love 
 
 That ever lives apart, 
 And never other comforts prove 
 
 But cares that kill the heart ! 
 O let me die ! 
 
 2 And so will L 
 
 Yet stay, sweet Love, and sing this song with me : 
 ' Time brings to pass what love thinks could not be.' 
 
 From Campion and Rosseter's 
 Book of Airs, i6oi. 
 
 'IPHE cypress curtain of the night is spread, 
 -^ And over all a silent dew is cast ; 
 The weaker cares by sleep are conquered, 
 But I alone, with hideous grief aghast, 
 
OF THE ELIZABETHAN AGE. 105 
 
 In spite of Morpheus' charms a watch do keep 
 Over mine eyes, to banish careless sleep. 
 
 Yet oft my trembling eyes through faintness close, 
 And then the Map of Hell before me stands. 
 
 Which ghosts do see, and I am one of those 
 Ordained to pine in sorrow's endless bands ; 
 
 Since from my wretched soul all hopes are reft. 
 
 And now no cause of life to me is left. 
 
 Grief, seize my soul ! for that will still endure 
 When my crazed body is consumed and gone : 
 
 Bear it to thy black den, there keep it sure, 
 Where thou ten thousand souls dost tire upon : 
 
 Yet all do not afford such food to thee 
 
 As this poor one, the worser part of me. 
 
 From William Byed's Psalms 
 Songs, and Sonnets, 1611. 
 
 THE eagle's force subdues each bird that flies ; 
 What metal may resist the flaming fire ? 
 Doth not the sun dazzle the clearest eyes. 
 And melt the ice, and' make the frost retire ? 
 Who can withstand a puissant king's desire .■' 
 The stiffest stones are pierced through with tools : 
 The wisest are with Princes made but fools. 
 
io6 MORE LYRICS FROM THE SONG-BOOKS 
 
 From Robert Jones' The Muses' 
 Garden of Delights, 1610. 
 
 THE fountains smoke, and yet no flames they show ; 
 Stars shine by night, though undiscemed by day ; 
 And trees do spring, yet are not seen to grow ; 
 And shadows move, although they seem to stay : 
 In Winter's woe is buried Summer's bliss, 
 And Love loves most when love most secret is. 
 
 The stillest streams descry the greatest deep ; 
 The clearest sky is subject to a shower ; 
 Conceit's most sweet whenas it seems to sleep, 
 And fairest days do in the morning lower : 
 The silent groves sweet nymphs they cannot miss, 
 For Love loves most where love most secret is. 
 
 The rarest jewels hidden virtue yield ; 
 
 The sweet of traffic is a secret gain ; 
 
 The year once old doth show a barren field ; 
 
 And plants seem dead, and yet they spring again : 
 
 Cupid is blind, the reason why is this, 
 
 Love loveth most when love most secret is. 
 
 From John Attey's First Book 
 of Airs, 1622. 
 
 THE Gordian knot, which Alexander great 
 Did whilom cut with his all-conquering sword, 
 Was nothing like thy busk-point, pretty peat,' 
 
 Nor could so fair an augury afford, 
 Which if I chance to cut or else untie. 
 Thy little world I'll conquer presently. 
 
 ' Pel. 
 
OF THE ELIZABETHAN AGE. 107 
 
 From Christ Church MS., K. 3, 
 47. (Music by Thomas 
 Weelkes. ) 
 
 THE greedy wretch that surfeits on his gold 
 And multiplies his store by usury. 
 Ne'er thinks on death or that he shall grow old, 
 Till death approach : Oh, then he fears to die. 
 And when he hears the knowling \sic\ of the bell 
 With coward heart he bids the world farewelL 
 
 From Thomas Bateson's Second 
 Set if Madrigals, 1618. 
 
 THE nightingale in silent night 
 Doth sing as well as in the light ; 
 To luU Love's watchful eyes asleep 
 She doth such nightly sonnets keep. 
 Heigh ho ! sing we withal, 
 What fortune us soe'er befaU. 
 
 From John Bartlet's Airs, 
 1606. 
 
 THE Queen of Paphos, Erycine, 
 In heart did rose-cheetd Adon love 
 He mortal was, but she divine, 
 
 And oft with kisses did him move ; 
 With great gifts stiU she did him woo, 
 But he would never yield thereto. 
 
io8 MORE LYRICS FROM THE SONG-BOOKS 
 
 Then since the Queen of Love by Love 
 To love was once a subject made. 
 
 And could thereof no pleasure prove. 
 By day, by night, by light or shade. 
 
 Why, being mortal, should I grieve. 
 
 Since she herself could not relieve ? 
 
 She was a goddess heavenly 
 And loved a fair-faced earthly boy, 
 
 Who did contemn her d^ty 
 And would not grant her hope of joy ; 
 
 For Love doth govern by a fate 
 
 That here plants will and there leaves hate. 
 
 But I a hapless mortal wight 
 
 To an immortal beauty sue ; 
 No marvel then she loathes my sight 
 
 Since Adon Venus would not woo. 
 Hence groaning sighs, mirth be my friend ! 
 Before my life, my love shall end. 
 
 From ROBEKT Jones' Tht 
 Muses' Garden tf Ddigkts, 
 
 THE sea hath many thousand sands. 
 The sun hath motes as many ; 
 The sky is full of stars, and love 
 As full of woes as any : 
 Believe me, that do know the elf, 
 And make no trial by thyself. 
 
OF THE BUZABETHAN AGE. 109 
 
 It is in truth a pretty toy 
 
 For babes to play withal ; 
 
 But O the honies of our youth 
 
 Are oft our age's gall ! 
 
 Self-proof in time will make thee know 
 
 He was a prophet told thee so : 
 
 A prophet that, Cassandra-like, 
 
 Tells truth without belief; 
 
 For headstrong youth will run his race, 
 
 Although his goal be grief : 
 
 Love's martyr, when his heat is past, 
 
 Proves Care's confessor at the last. 
 
 From Martin Peerson's Pri- 
 vate Music, 1620. 
 
 THE spring of joy is dry 
 That ran into my heart, 
 And all my comforts fly : 
 My love and I must part. 
 
 Farewell, my love, I go. 
 If Fate will have it so ! 
 Yet, to content us both, 
 Return again as doth 
 
 The bee unto the flower. 
 The cattle to the brook, 
 
 The shadow to the hour, 
 The fish unto the hook, 
 That we may sport our fill 
 And love continue still. 
 
no MORE LYRICS FROM THE SONG-BOOKS 
 
 From Richard Carlton's 
 Madrigals, 1601. 
 
 THE witless boy that blind is to behold, 
 Yet blinded sees what in our fancy lies, 
 With smiling looks and hairs of curled gold 
 
 Hath oft entrapped and oft deceived the wise : 
 No wit can serve his fancy to remove, 
 For finest wits are soonest thralled to Love. 
 
 From Thomas Campion's Two 
 Books of Airs (circ. 1613). 
 
 THERE is none, O none but you. 
 That from me estrange your sight, 
 Whom mine eyes affect to view 
 Or chained ears hear with delight. 
 
 Other beauties others move, 
 
 In you I all graces find ; 
 Such is the effect of Love, 
 
 To make them happy that are kind. 
 
 Women in frail beauty trust. 
 
 Only seem you fair to me ; 
 Yet prove truly kind and just. 
 
 For that may not dissembled be. 
 
OF THE ELIZABETHAN AGE. 
 
 Sweet, afford me then your sight, 
 That, surveying all your looks. 
 
 Endless volumes I may write 
 And fill the world with envied books ; 
 
 Which when after-ages view, 
 All shall wonder and despair, 
 
 Woman to find man so true, 
 Or man a woman half so fair. 
 
 From Christ Church MS. I. $. 49. 
 (Music by Alfonso Ferea- 
 
 BOSCO. ) 
 
 ' I 'HERE was a frog swum in the lake, 
 -^ The crab came crawling by : 
 " Wilt thou," coth the frog, " be my make ' ?" 
 Coth the crab " No, not I." 
 " My skin is s[m]ooth and dappled fine, 
 I can leap far and nigh. 
 Thy shell is hard : so is not mine." 
 Coth the crab " No, not I." 
 " Tell me," then spake the crab, " therefore, 
 Or else I thee defy : 
 Give me thy claw, I ask no more." 
 Coth the frog " That will I." 
 The crab bit off the frog's fore-feet ; 
 The frog then he must die. 
 To woo a crab it is not meet : 
 If any do, it is not I. 
 
 1 The MS. gives ' ' mate " ; but I read ' ' make " (an old form 
 of "mate") for the sake of the rhyme. 
 
112 MORE LYRICS FROM THE SONG-BOOKS 
 
 From Robert Jones' First Set 
 of Madrigals, 1607. 
 
 THINE eyes so bright 
 Bereft my sight 
 When first I view'd thy face ; 
 So now my light 
 Is turn'd to night, 
 
 I stray from place to place : 
 Then guide me of thy kindness, 
 So shall I bless piy blindness. 
 
 From William Barley's New 
 Book of Tabliture, 1596. 
 
 THOSE eyes that set my fancy on a fire, 
 Those crisped hairs that hold my heart in chains. 
 Those dainty hands which conquered my desire, 
 
 That wit which of my thoughts doth hold the reins : 
 Then Love be judge, what heart may therewith stand 
 Such eyes, such head, such wit, and such a hand ? 
 Those eyes for clearness doth the stars surpass. 
 
 Those hairs obscure the brightness of the sun. 
 Those hands more white than ever ivory was. 
 
 That wit even to the skies hath glory won. 
 O eyes that pierce our hearts without remorse ! 
 
 O hairs of right that wear a royal crown ! 
 O hands that conquer more than Caesar's force ! 
 
 O wit that turns huge kingdoms upside down ! 
 
OF THE ELIZABETHAN AGE. 113 
 
 From Thomas Weelkes' 
 Madrigals, 1597. 
 
 THOSE spots upon my lady's face appearing, 
 The one of black, the other bright carnation. 
 Are like the mulberries in dainty gardens growing, 
 
 Where grows delight and pleasures of rich fashion : 
 They grow too high and warily kept from me, 
 Which makes me sing " Ay me ! 'twill never be." 
 
 From Thomas Campion's Fourth 
 Book of Airs (circ. 1617). 
 
 THOU joyest, fond boy, to be by many loved, 
 To have thy beauty of most dames approved ; 
 For this dost thou thy native worth disguise 
 And playest the sycophant t'observe their eyes : 
 Thy glass thou counsell'st, more to adorn thy skin, 
 That first should school thee to be fair within. 
 
 'Tis childish to be caught with pearl or amber. 
 And womanlike too much to cloy the chamber ; 
 Youths should the fields affect, heat their rough steeds, 
 Their hardened nerves to fit for better deeds : 
 Is't not more joy strongholds to force with swords 
 Than women's weakness take with looks or words ? 
 I 
 
114 MORE LYRICS FROM THE SONG-BOOKS 
 
 Men that do noble things all purchase glory, 
 One man for one brave act hath proved a story ; 
 But if that one ten thousand dames o'ercame, 
 Who would record it, if not to his shame ? 
 'Tis far more conquest with one to live true 
 Than every hour to triumph lord of new. 
 
 From Mus. Sch. MS. F. 575. 
 
 THOU sent'st to me a heart was crowned ; 
 I took it to be thine, 
 But when I saw it had a wound 
 
 I knew that heart was mine. 
 A bounty of a strange conceit ! 
 
 To send mine own to me, 
 And send it in a worse estate 
 Than when it came to thee. 
 
 From John Hilton'S/4i>j, 1627. 
 
 THOUGH me you disdain to view, 
 Yet give me leave to gaze on you : 
 The sun as yet did never hide him 
 When a Moor or Tartar eyed him. 
 
 Fa la la ! 
 
OF THE ELIZABETHAN AGE. 115 
 
 From Campion and Rossetek's 
 Book of Airs, 1601. 
 
 ' I ""HOUGH you are young and I am old, 
 -*- Though your veins hot and my blood cold ; 
 Though youth is moist and age is dry, 
 Yet embers live when flames do die. 
 
 The tender graft is easily broke, 
 But who shall shake the sturdy oak ? 
 You are more fresh and fair than I ; 
 Yet stubs do live when flowers do die. 
 
 Thou, that thy youth dost vainly boast, 
 Know buds are soonest nipped with frost ; 
 Think that thy fortune still doth cry, 
 " Thou fool ! tomorrow thou must die." 
 
 From Thomas Weelkes' 
 Madrigals of Five and Six- 
 Paris, 1600. 
 
 THREE times a day my prayer is 
 To gaze my fill on Thoralis, 
 And three times thrice I daily pray 
 Not to offend that sacred may ' ; 
 But all the year my suit must be 
 That I may please and she love me. 
 
 1 Maid. 
 
ii6 MORE LYRICS FROM THE SONG-BOOKS 
 
 From Thomas Weelkes' 
 Madrigals of Six Parts, 
 1600. 
 
 THULE, the period of cosmography, 
 Doth vaunt of Hecla, whose sulphureous fire 
 Doth melt the frozen clime and thaw the sky, 
 
 Trinacrian Aetna's flames ascend not higher : 
 These things seem wondrous, yet more wondrous 1, 
 Whose heart with fear doth freeze, with love doth fry. 
 
 The Andalusian merchant, that returns 
 Laden with cochineal and china dishes, 
 
 Reports in Spain how strangely Fogo burns 
 Amidst an ocean full of flying fishes : 
 
 These things seem wondrous, yet more wondrous I, 
 
 Whose heart with fear doth freeze, with love doth fry. 
 
 From Thomas Morley's The 
 First Book of Airs, 1600. 
 
 THYRSIS and Milla, arm in arm together, 
 In merry may-time to the green garden walked. 
 Where all the way they wanton riddles talked ; 
 The youthful boy, kissing her cheeks so rosy, 
 Beseech'd her there to gather him a posy. 
 
OF THE ELIZABETHAN AGE. 117 
 
 She Straight her light green silken coats uptucked 
 And may for Mill and thyme for Thyrsis plucked ; 
 Which when she brought, he clasp'd her by the middle 
 And kiss'd her sweet, but could not read her riddle. 
 "Ah fool !" with that the nymph set up a laughter, 
 And blush'd, and ran away, and he ran after. 
 
 From John Danyel's Songs for 
 the Lute, Viol, and Voice, 
 1606. 
 
 TIME, cruel Time, canst thou subdue that brow 
 That conquers all but thee, and thee too stays, 
 As if she were exempt from scythe or bow. 
 From Love and Years, unsubject to decays ? 
 
 Or art thou grown in league with those fair eyes 
 That they might help thee to consume our days ? 
 
 Or dost thou love her for her cruelties. 
 
 Being merciless like thee, that no man weighs ? 
 
 Then do so still, although she makes no 'steem 
 Of days nor years, but lets them run in vain : 
 
 Hold still thy swift-wing'd hours, that wond'ring seem 
 To gaze on her, even to turn back again. 
 
 And do so still, although she nothing cares : 
 Do as I do, love her although unkind : 
 
 Hold still, yet O ! I fear at unawares 
 Thou wilt beguile her though thou seem'st so kind. 
 
ii8 MORE LYRICS FROM THE SONG-BOOKS 
 
 From John Dowland's Second 
 Book of Songs or Airs, 1600. 
 
 TIME'S eldest son, Old Age (the heir of Ease, 
 Strength's foe, Love's woe, and foster to Devotion) 
 Bids gallant Youth in martial prowess please ; 
 As for himself, he hath no earthly motion, 
 But thinks sighs, tears, vows, prayers and sacrifices, 
 As good as shows, masques, jousts or tilt-devices. 
 
 Then sit thee down and say thy Nunc dimittis, 
 
 With De Profundis, Credo, and Te Deumj 
 
 Chant Miserere, for what now so fit is 
 
 As that or this, Paratum est cor meum f 
 
 O that thy saint would take in worth thy heart ! 
 
 Thou canst not please her with a better part. 
 
 When others sing Venite exultemus. 
 
 Stand by and turn to Nolo amularij 
 
 For Quare fremuerunt use Oremus; 
 
 Vivat Eliza for an Ave Mary I 
 
 And teach those swains that lives about thy cell 
 
 To sing Amen when thou dost pray so well. 
 
OF TH& ELIZABETHAN AGE. 119 
 
 I 
 
 From Michael Este's Madri- 
 gals, 1604. 
 
 " nPO bed, to bed ! " she calls and never ceaseth : 
 J- Which words do pierce and grieve my heart 
 full sore. 
 
 " To bed, to bed ! " I say, my pain increaseth ; 
 Yet I'll to bed and trouble you no more. 
 
 Good night, sweet heart ! to bed I must begone, 
 
 And being there I'll muse on thee alone. 
 
 From Thomas Weelkes' Airs 
 or Fantastic Spirits, 1608. 
 
 TO-MORROW is the marriage-day 
 Of Mopsus and fair Phyllida : 
 Come, shepherds, bring your garlands gay. 
 
 If Love lie in so foul a nest, 
 And foulness on so fair a breast. 
 What lover may not hope the best ? 
 
 O do not weep, fair Bellamour : 
 Though he be gone, there's many more. 
 For Love hath many loves in store. 
 
I20 MORE LYRICS FROM TH^ SONG-BOOKS 
 
 From Thomas Campion's Two 
 Books of Airs {die. 1613.) 
 
 TO music bent is my retired mind 
 And fain would I some song of pleasure sing, 
 But in vain joys no comfort now I find, 
 From heavenly thoughts all true delight doth spring : 
 Thy power, O God, Thy mercies to record. 
 Will sweeten every note and every word. 
 
 All earthly pomp or beauty to express 
 Is but to carve in snow, on waves to write ; 
 Celestial things, though men conceive them less, 
 Yet fullest are they in themselves of light : 
 Such beams they yield as know no means to die, 
 Such heat they cast as lifts the spirit high. 
 
 From Orlando Gibbons' First 
 Set of Madrigals, 1612. 
 
 TRUST not too much, fair youth, unto thy feature, 
 Be not enamoured of thy blushing hue ; 
 Be gamesome whilst thou art a goodly creature ; 
 The flowers will fade that in thy garden grew : 
 Sweet violets are gather'd in their spring, 
 White primit ' falls withouten pitying. 
 
 1 Privet. 
 
OF THE ELIZABETHAN AGE. 
 
 From William Corkine's 
 Second Book of Airs, 1612. 
 
 TRUTH-TRYING Time shall cause my mistress 
 say 
 My love was perfect, constant as the day : 
 And as the day when evening doth appear 
 Doth suffer doom to be or foul or clear, 
 So shall my last bequest make known to all 
 My love in her did rise, did live, did fall. 
 
 You Gods of Love, who oft heard my desires, 
 Prepare her heart by your love-charming fires 
 To think on those sweet revels, peaceful fights. 
 Ne'er-changing Custom taught at nuptial rites : 
 O guerdonize my prayers but with this, 
 That I may taste of that long-wished-for bliss. 
 
 From Campion and Rosseter's 
 Book of Airs, 1601. 
 
 TURN back, you wanton flyer, 
 And answer my desire 
 With mutual greeting. 
 Yet bend a little nearer. 
 True beauty still shines clearer 
 In closer meeting. 
 
122 MORE LYRICS FROM THE SONG-BOOKS 
 
 Hearts with hearts delighted 
 Should strive to be united, 
 
 Each other's arms with arms ench^ning : 
 Hearts with a thought, 
 
 Rosy lips with a kiss still entertaining. 
 
 What harvest half so sweet is 
 As still to reap the kisses 
 
 Grown ripe in sowing ? 
 And straight to be receiver 
 Of that which thou art giver, 
 
 Rich in bestowing ? 
 There is no strict observing 
 Of times' or seasons' swerving,^ 
 
 There is ever one fresh spring abiding : 
 Then what we sow with our lips. 
 
 Let us reap, love's gains dividing. 
 
 From Christ Church MS. I. 4. 78. 
 
 * I ""URN in, my Lord, turn into me, 
 -*■ My heart's a homely place ; 
 But thou canst make corruption flee 
 And fill it with thy grace : 
 So furnished it will be brave, 
 And a rich dwelling thou shalt have. 
 
 ' Old ed. " changing." 
 
OF THE ELIZABETHAN AGE. 123 
 
 From Thomas Vautor's Songs 
 of divers Airs and Natures, 
 1619. 
 
 T TNKIND, is this the meed of lovers' pain? 
 *-^ Doth loyal faith no better guerdon gain ? 
 Adieu ! thy looks are coy, thy fancy strange : 
 O, stay ! my heart relents and will not change, 
 But rather die than from my saint once swerve : 
 My life she gave, my love she doth deserve. 
 
 From John Dowland's First 
 Book of Songs or Airs, 1597. 
 
 UNQUIET thoughts, your civil slaughter stint, 
 And wrap your wrongs within a pensive heart ; 
 And you, my tongue, that makes my mouth a mint 
 And stamps my thoughts to coin them words by art, 
 Be stiU ! for if you ever do the like, 
 I'll cut the string that makes the hammer strike. 
 
 But what can stay my thoughts they may not start ? 
 
 Or put my tongue in durance for to die ? 
 
 Whenas these eyes, the keys of mouth and heart. 
 
 Open the lock where all my love doth lie, 
 
 I'll seal them up within their lids for ever : 
 
 So thoughts and words and looks shall die together. 
 
124 MORE LYRICS FROM THE SONG-BOOKS 
 
 How shall I then gaze on my mistress' eyes ? 
 My thoughts must have some vent, else heart will 
 break. , 
 
 My tongue would rust, as in my mouth it lies, 
 If eyes and thoughts were free and that not speak. 
 Speak then ! and tell the passions of desire, 
 Which turns mine eyes to floods, my thoughts to fire. 
 
 From Martin Peerson's Pri- 
 vate Music, 162a 
 
 UPON my lap my sovereign sits 
 And sucks upon my breast ; 
 Meantime his love maintains my life 
 And gives my sense her rest. 
 Sing lullaby, my little boy, 
 Sing lullaby, mine only joy ! 
 
 When thou hast taken thy repast. 
 Repose, my babe, on me ; 
 So may thy mother and thy nurse 
 Thy cradle also be. 
 
 Sing lullaby, my little boy. 
 
 Sing lullaby, mine only joy ! 
 
 I grieve that duty doth not work 
 All that my wishing would, 
 Because I would not be to thee 
 But in the best I should. 
 
 Sing lullaby, my little boy, 
 
 Sing lullaby, mine only joy ! 
 
OF THE ELIZABETHAN AGE. 125 
 
 Yet as I am, and as I may, 
 I must and will be thine, 
 Though all too little for thy self 
 Vouchsafing to be mine. 
 
 Sing lullaby, my little boy, 
 
 Sing lullaby, mine only joy ! 
 
 From Thomas CAMPiON's/?oa>-M 
 Book of Airs (circ. 1617). 
 
 VEIL, Love, mine eyes ! O hide from me 
 The plagues that charge the curious mind ! 
 If beauty private will not be, 
 Suffice it yet that she proves kind. 
 Who can usurp heaven's light alone ? 
 Stars were not made to shine on one. 
 
 Griefs past recure fools try to heal, 
 That greater harms on less inflict : 
 The pure offend by too much zeal. 
 Affection should not be too strict : 
 He that a true embrace will find 
 To beaut/s faults must still be blind. 
 
 From Christ Church MS. I. 4. 78. 
 
 VICTORIOUS Time, whose winged feet do fly 
 More swift than eagles in the azure sky, 
 Haste to thy prey, why art thou tardy now 
 When all things to thy powerful fate do bow ? 
 
126 MOSE LYRICS FROM THE SONG-BOOKS 
 
 O give an end to cares and killing fears, 
 Shake thy dull sand, unravel those few years 
 Are yet untold, since nought but discontents 
 Clouds all our earthly joy with sad laments. 
 That when thy nimble hours shall cease to be 
 We may be crown'd with blest eternity. 
 
 From Thomas Campion's Two 
 Books cf Airs (circ. 1613). 
 
 VIEW me. Lord, a work of Thine ! 
 Shall I then lie drown'd in night ? 
 Might Thy grace in me but shine, 
 I should seem made all of light. 
 
 But my soul still surfeits so 
 
 On the poison'd baits of sin, 
 That I strange and ugly grow ; 
 
 All is dark and foul within. 
 
 Cleanse me, Lord, that I may kneel 
 
 At thine altar pure and white : • 
 They that once Thy mercies feel. 
 
 Gaze no more on earth's delight. 
 
 Worldly joys like shadows fade 
 When the heavenly light appears : 
 
 But the covenants Thou hast made, 
 Endless, know nor days nor years. 
 
OF THE ELIZABETHAN AGE. 127 
 
 In Thy Word, Lord, is my trust, 
 
 To Thy mercies fast I fly ; 
 Though I am but clay and dust, 
 
 Yet Thy grace can lift me high. 
 
 From Add. MS. 17790. 
 
 WERE I made juror of that quest 
 Where Venus' son should be arraign'd, 
 Before his fault were scarce exprest 
 
 Or any party had compla^n'd, 
 I would cry " Guilty ! the boy is guilty ! " 
 
 And if by glancing of an eye 
 
 A thief should slily steal a heart, 
 It should be counted felony ; 
 
 But if it did increase much smart, 
 I would cry " Murther ! a grievous murther ! " 
 
 But if another were repaid 
 
 To satisfy for such a theft, 
 Though he had stol'n, it should be said 
 
 He had as good behind him left, 
 And then cry " Quit him ! O sweet thief ! quit him ! " 
 
128 MORE LYRICS FROM THE SONG-BOOKS 
 
 From /oHN Danyel's Songs foi' 
 the Lute, Viol, and Voice, 
 1606. 
 
 WHAT delight can they enjoy 
 Whose hearts are not their own, 
 But are gone abroad astray 
 
 And to others' bosoms flown ? 
 Silly comforts, silly joy, 
 
 Which fall and rise as others move 
 Who seldom use to turn our way ! 
 And therefore Chloris will not love, 
 For well I see 
 How false men be, 
 And let them pine that lovers prove. 
 
 From Robert Jones' First Book of 
 Airs, 1601. 
 
 WHAT if I seek for love of thee? 
 Shall I find 
 Beauty kind. 
 To desert that still shall dwell in me ? 
 Though thy looks have charmed mine eyes, 
 I can forbear to love ; 
 
 But if ever sweet desire 
 Set my woeful heart on fire, 
 Then can I never remove. 
 
OF THE ELIZABETHAN AGE. 129 
 
 Frown not on me unless thou hate ; 
 
 For thy frown 
 
 Cast[s] me down 
 To despair of my most hapless state. 
 Smile not on me unless thou love ; 
 
 For thy smile 
 
 Will beguile 
 My desires, if thou unsteadfast prove. 
 If thou needs wilt bend thy brows, 
 A-while refrain, my dear ; 
 
 But if thou wilt smile on me, 
 
 Let it not delayed be : 
 Comfort is never too near. 
 
 From Thomas Campion's Third 
 Book of Airs (circ. 1617). 
 
 WHAT is it all that men possess, among them- 
 selves conversing ? 
 Wealth or fame or some such boast, scarce worthy the 
 
 rehearsing. 
 Women only are men's good, with them in love con- 
 versing. 
 
 If weary, they prepare us rest ; if sick, their hand 
 
 attends us ; 
 When with grief our hearts are prest, their comfort 
 
 best befriends us ; 
 Sweet or sour, they willing go to share what fortune 
 
 sends us. 
 
 K 
 
130 MORE LYRICS PROM THE SONG-BOOKS 
 
 What pretty babes with pain they bear, our name and 
 form presenting ! 
 
 What we get how wise they keep, by sparing wants 
 preventing ! 
 
 Sorting all their household cares to our observed con- 
 tenting ! 
 
 All this, of whose large use I sing, in two words is 
 
 expressed : 
 Good Wife is the good I praise, if by good men 
 
 possessed. 
 Bad with bad in ill suit well, but good with good live 
 
 blessed. 
 
 From Thomas Morley's First 
 Book of Ballets to Five Voices, 
 1600. 
 
 WHAT saith my dainty darling ? 
 Shall I now your love obtain ? 
 Fa, la ! 
 Long time I sued for grace, 
 
 And grace you granted me 
 When time should serve and place : 
 Can any fitter be ? 
 
 Fa, la ! . 
 
 This crystal running fountain 
 In his language saith " Come, Love ! " 
 
 Fa, la ! 
 
OF THE ELIZABETHAN AGE. 131 
 
 The birds, the trees, the fields, 
 
 Else none can us behold ; 
 This bank soft lying yields. 
 
 And saith " Nice fools, be bold." 
 
 Fa, la ! 
 
 From Dr. John Wilson's Cheer- 
 ful Airs or Ballads, 1660. 
 
 WHAT would any man desire ? 
 Is he cold ? then,here's a fire. 
 Is he hot .' she'll gently school him 
 Till he find that heat does cool him. 
 Is he sad ? then here's a pleasure. 
 Is he poor? then here's a treasure. 
 Loves he music ? here's the choice 
 Of all sweet sounds in her sweet voice. 
 Does he hunger? here's a feast 
 To which a god might be a guest ; 
 And to those viands, if he thirst, 
 Here's nectar for him, since the first 
 Of men that was for sin a debtor 
 Never any tasted better. 
 Here's aU complete from head to heel, 
 To. hear, to see, taste, smell, or feel. 
 
132 MORE LYRICS FROM THE SONG-BOOKS 
 
 From John Bartlet's Airs, 
 1606. 
 
 WHEN from my love I look'd for love and kind 
 affection's due, 
 Too well I found her vows to prove most faithless and 
 
 untrue ; 
 For when I did ask her why, 
 Most sharply she did reply 
 That she with me did ne'er agree 
 To love but jestingly. 
 
 Mark but the subtle policies that female lovers find, 
 Who loves to fix their constancies like feathers in the 
 
 wind ; 
 Though they swear, vow and protest 
 That they love you chiefly best, 
 Yet by-and-by they'll all deny. 
 And say 'twas but in jest. 
 
 From Dr. John Wilson's Cheer- 
 ful Airs or Ballads, 1660. 
 
 WHEN I behold my mistress' face 
 Where beauty hath her dwelling-place, 
 And see those seeing stars her eyes 
 In whom love's fire for ever lies, 
 And hear her witty charming words 
 Her sweet tongue to mine ear affords, 
 Methinks he wants wit, ears, and eyes 
 Whom love makes not idolatrise. 
 
OF THE ELIZABETHAN AGE. 133 
 
 From Robert Jones' Musical 
 Dreamt 1609. 
 
 WHEN I sit reading all alone that secret book 
 Wherein I sigh to look, 
 How many spots there be 
 I wish I could not see, 
 Or from myself might flee ! 
 
 Mine eyes for refiige then with zeal befix the skies. 
 My tears do cloud those eyes. 
 My sighs do blow them dry ; 
 And yet I live to die, 
 Myself I cannot fly. 
 
 Heavens, I implore, that knows my fault, what shall I 
 
 do? 
 To Hell I dare not go ; 
 The world first made me rue, 
 My self my griefs renew : 
 To whom then shall I sue ? 
 
 Alas, my soul doth faint to draw this doubtful breath : 
 Is there no hope in death ? 
 O yes, death ends my woes, 
 Death me from me will loose ; 
 My self am all my foes. 
 
134 MORE LYRICS FROM THE SONG-BOOKS 
 
 From William Corkine's 
 Second Book of Airs, 1612. 
 
 WHEN I was bom Lucina cross-legged sate, 
 The angry stars with ominous aspects 
 Frowned on my birth, and the foredooming Fate 
 Ordained to brand me with their dire effects : 
 The sun did hide his face and left the night 
 To bring me to this world's accursed light. 
 
 From Robert Jones' First Book 
 of Songs and Airs, 1601. 
 
 WHEN love on time and measure makes his 
 ground. 
 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 ; 
 A love that ebbs and flows, now up, now down, 
 A morning's favour and an evening's frown. 
 
 Sweet looks show love, yet they are but as. beams ; 
 
 Fair words seem true, yet they are but as wind ; 
 Eyes shed their tears, yet are but outward streams ; 
 
 Sighs paint a shadow in the falsest mind. 
 Looks, words, tears, sighs show love when love they 
 
 leave ; 
 False hearts can weep, sigh, swear, and yet deceive. 
 
OF THE ELIZABETHAN AGE. 135 
 
 From Dr. John Wilson's Cheer- 
 ful Airs or Ballads, 1660. 
 
 WHEN on mine eyes her eyes first shone, 
 I all amazed 
 
 Steadily gazed, 
 And she, to make me more amazed, 
 So caught, so wove, four eyes in one 
 As who had with advisement seen us 
 Would have admired Love's equal force between us. 
 But treason in those friendlike eyes. 
 
 My heart first charming 
 
 And then disarming. 
 So maimed it ere it dreamed of harming 
 As at her mercy now it lies. 
 And shows me to my endless smart 
 She loved but with her eyes, I with my heart. 
 
 From Michael Este's Madri- 
 gals, 1604. 
 
 WHEN on my dear I do demand the due 
 That to affection and firm faith belongeth, 
 A friend to me, she saith, she will be true, 
 
 And with this answer still my joys prolongeth : 
 But, dear, tell me what friendship is in this. 
 Thus for to wrong me and delay my bliss ? 
 
136 MOSE LYRICS FROM THE SONG-BOOKS 
 
 From Campion and Rosseter's 
 Book of Ain, i6oi. 
 
 WHEN the god of merry love 
 As yet in his cradle lay, 
 Thus his withered nurse did say : 
 " Thou a wanton boy wilt prove 
 To deceive the powers above ; 
 For by thy continual smiUng 
 I see thy power of beguiling." 
 
 Therewith she the babe did kiss ; 
 When a sudden fire outcame 
 From those burning lips of his 
 That did her with love inflame, 
 But none would regard the same : 
 So that, to her day of dying. 
 The old wretch lived ever crying. 
 
 From Campion and Rosseter's 
 Book of Airs, i6oi. 
 
 "l X THEN to her lute Corinna sings, 
 
 * * Her voice revives the leaden strings, 
 And doth in highest notes appear 
 As any challenged echo clear : 
 'But when she doth of mourning speak, 
 E'en with her sighs the strings do break. 
 
OF THE ELIZABETHAN AGE. 137 
 
 And as her lute doth live or die, 
 
 Led by her passion, so must I : 
 
 For when of pleasure she doth sing, 
 
 My thoughts enjoy a sudden spring ; 
 
 But if she doth of sorrow speak, 
 
 E'en from my heart the strings do break. 
 
 From Robert Jones' Ultimum 
 Vale, 1608. 
 
 WHEN will the fountain of my tears be dry. 
 When will my sighs be spent ? 
 When will desire agree to let me die ? 
 
 When wiU thy heart relent ? 
 It is not for my hfe I plead, 
 Since death the way to rest doth lead ; 
 But stay for thy consent. 
 Lest thou be discontent. 
 
 For if myself without thy leave I kill. 
 
 My ghost will never rest ; 
 So hath it sworn to work thine only will 
 
 And holds it ever best ; 
 For since it only lives by thee, 
 Good reason thou the ruler be : 
 
 Then give me leave to die, 
 And show thy power thereby. 
 
138 MORE LYRICS FROil THE SONG-BOOKS 
 
 From William Bykd's Psalms, 
 Sonneis and Songs, 1588. 
 
 WHERE Fancy fond for Pleasure pleads 
 And Reason keeps poor Hope in jail, 
 There time it is to take my beads 
 And pray that Beauty may prevail; 
 Or else Despair will win the field 
 When Reason, Hope, and Pleasure yield. 
 
 My eyes presume to judge this case, 
 Whose judgment Reason doth disdain ; 
 But Beauty with her wanton face 
 Stands to defend the case is plain, 
 And at the bar of sweet Delight 
 She pleads that Fancy must be right. 
 
 But Shame will not have Reason yield, 
 Though Grief do swear it shall be so. 
 As though it were a perfect shield 
 To blush and fear to tell my woe : 
 When Silence force will at the last 
 To wish for wit when hope is past. 
 
 So far hath fond Desire outrun 
 
 The bo[u]nd which Reason set out first, 
 
 That, when Delight the fray begun, 
 
 I would now say, if that I durst, 
 
 That in her stead ten thousand Woes 
 
 Have sprung in field where Pleasure grows. 
 
OF THE ELIZABETHAN AGE. 139 
 
 that I might declare the rest 
 Of all the toys which Fancy turns 
 Like towers of wind within my breast, 
 Where fire is hid that never bums ! 
 Then should I try one of the twain, 
 Either to love or to disdain. . 
 
 But fine Conceit dares not declare 
 The strange conflict of Hope and Fear, 
 Lest Reason should be left so bare 
 That Love durst whisper in mine ear. 
 And tell me how my Fancy shall 
 Bring Reason to be Beauty's thrall. 
 
 1 must therefore with silence build 
 The labyrinth of my delight, 
 
 Till love have tried in open field 
 Which of the twain shall win the fight : 
 I fear me Reason must give place 
 If Fancy fond win Beauty's grace. 
 
 From RoeeSt Jones' First Book 
 of Songs and Airs, 1601. 
 
 WHERE lingering fear doth once possess the 
 heart, 
 There is the tongue 
 Forced to prolong 
 And smother up his suit, while that his smart. 
 Like fire supprest, flames more in every part. 
 
I40 MORE LYRICS FROM THE SONG-BOOKS 
 
 Who dares not speak deserves not his desire ; 
 
 The boldest &ce 
 
 Findeth most grace ; 
 Though women love that men should them admire. 
 They slily laugh at him dares come no higher. 
 
 Some think a glance, expressed <>y a sigh. 
 
 Winning the field, 
 
 Maketh them yield : 
 But whUe these glancing fools do roll the eye, 
 They beat the bush, away the bird doth flie. 
 
 A gentle heart in vertuous breast doth stay ; 
 
 Pity doth dwell 
 
 In Beauty's cell ; 
 A woman's heart doth not, though tongue, say "Nay : 
 Repentance taught me this the other day. 
 
 Which had I wist, I presently had got 
 
 The pleasing fiiiit 
 
 Of my long suit ; 
 But Time hath now b^uiled me of this lot. 
 For that by his foietop I took him not 
 
 From Christ Ckurck MS. L 1. 13, 
 (Music by James Hart. ) 
 
 WHERE would coy Aminta run 
 From a desp^ring lover's story ? 
 When her eyes have conquest won, 
 WTiy should her ears refuse the glory ? 
 
OF THE ELIZABETHAN AGE. 141 
 
 Should a slave, whom racks constrain, 
 Be forbidden to complain ? 
 Let her scorn me, let her fly me, 
 Let her eyes their light deny me. 
 Ne'er shall my heart yield to despair 
 Or my tongue cease to teU my care. 
 Much to love, and much to pray, 
 Is to heaven the nearest way. 
 
 From Richard Carlton's 
 Madrigals, 1601. 
 
 WHO vows devotion to fair beauty's shrine 
 And leads a lover's life in pilgrimage. 
 Or that his constant faith may brighter sKine 
 
 Dwells days and nights in fancy's hermitage. 
 Shall find his truth's reward but loss of labour 
 Although he merit never so much favour. 
 
 From John Dowland's First- 
 Book of Songs or Airs, 1597. 
 (Words by FuLKE Greville, 
 Lord Brooke, ) 
 
 WHOEVER thinks or hopes of love for love, 
 Or who beloved in Cupid's laws doth glory. 
 Who joys in vows or vows not to remove. 
 Who by this light god hath not been made sorry, — 
 Let him see me, eclipsed from my sun, 
 With dark clouds of an earth quite overrun. 
 
142 MORE LYRICS PROM THE SONG-BOOKS 
 
 Who thinks that sorrows felt, desires hidden, 
 Or humble faith in constant honour armed, 
 Can keep love from the fruit that is forbidden ; 
 Who thinks that change is by entreaty charmed,— 
 Looking on me, let him know love's delights 
 Are treasures hid in caves but kept by sprites. 
 
 From John Danyel's Songs for 
 the Lute, Viol, and Voice, 
 1606. 
 
 WHY canst thou not, as others do, , 
 
 Look on me with unwoundii\g eyes ? 
 And yet look sweet, but yet not so ; 
 
 Smile, but not in killing wise ; 
 Arm not thy graces to confound ; 
 Only look, but do not wound. 
 
 Why should mine eyes see more in you 
 
 Than they can see in all the rest ? 
 For I can others' beauties view. 
 
 And not find my heart opprest. 
 O be as others are to me. 
 Or let me be more to thee. 
 
OF THE ELIZABETHAN AGE. 143 
 
 From Thomas Ravenscroft's 
 Melismaia, 1611. 
 
 The Courtier's Courtship to his Mistress. 
 
 WILL ye love me, lady sweet ? 
 You are young and love is meet. 
 Out alas ! who then will sport thee ? 
 Wanton yet in the spring : 
 Love is a pretty thing. 
 Kiss sweet as lovers do, 
 Prove kind to them that woo. 
 
 The Mistress to the Courtier. 
 
 Fie away, fie away ! fie, fie, fie ! 
 No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, not I ! 
 ru live a maid till I be forty. 
 
 From Robert Jones' First Book 
 of Songs and Airs, i6oi. 
 
 WOMEN, what are they ? Changing weather- 
 cocks 
 That smallest pufis of lust have power to turn. 
 Women, what are they ? Virtue's stumbling-blocks 
 Whereat weak fools do fall, the wiser spurn. 
 We men, what are we ? Fools and idle boys 
 To spend our time in sporting with such toys. 
 
144 MORE LYRICS FROM THE SONG-BOOKS 
 
 Women, what are they ? Trees whose outward rind 
 Makes show for fair when inward heart is hollow. 
 Women, what are they ? Beasts of hyena's kind 
 That speak those fair'st whom most they mean to 
 
 swallow. 
 We men, what are we ? fools and idle boys 
 To spend our time in sporting with such toys. 
 
 Women, what are they ? rocks upon the coast 
 Whereon we suffer shipwrack at our landing. 
 Women, what are they .' patient creatures most 
 That rather yield than strive 'gainst aught with- 
 standing. 
 We men, what are we ? Fools and idle boys 
 To spend our time in sporting with such toys. 
 
 From William Bykd's Songs of 
 Sundry Natures, 1589. 
 
 WOUNDED I am, and dare not seek relief 
 For this new stroke unseen but not unfelt : 
 No blood nor bruise is witness of my grief. 
 
 But sighs and tears wherewith I mourn and melt. 
 If I complain, my witness is suspect ; 
 
 If I contain, with cares I am undone : 
 Sit still and die, tell truth and be reject : 
 
 O hateful choice that sorrow cannot shun ! 
 Yet of us twain whose loss shall be the less. 
 
 Mine of my life or you of your good name ? 
 Light is my death, regarding my distress. 
 
 But your offence cries out to your defame, 
 " A virgin fair hath slain, for lack of grace, 
 The man that made an idol of her face ! " 
 
OF THE ELIZABETHAN AGE. 145 
 
 From Christ Church MS. K. 3. 
 43-5. (Music by THOMAS 
 Ford.) 
 
 YET ' if his majesty our sovereign lord 
 Should of his own accord 
 Friendly himself invite, 
 
 And say " I'll be your guest to morrow night," 
 How should we stir ourselves, call and command 
 All hands to work ! " Let no man idle stand. 
 Set me fine Spanish tables in the hall, 
 See they be fitted all ; 
 Let there be room to eat, 
 And order taken that there want no meat. 
 See every sconce and candlestick made bright, 
 That without tapers they may give a light. 
 Look to the presence : are the carpets spread. 
 The dais '' a'et the head, 
 The cushions in the chairs. 
 And all the candles lighted on the stairs ? 
 Perfume the chambers, and in any case 
 Let each man give attendance in his place." 
 Thus if the king were coming would we do, 
 And 'twere good reason too ; 
 For 'tis a duteous thing 
 To show all honour to an earthly king. 
 And after all our travail and our cost, 
 So he be pleased, to think no labour lost. 
 
 1 These verses seem to have been taken from some longer 
 poem. 
 
 2 MS. "dazie." • 
 
146 MORE LYRICS FROM THE SONG-BOOKS 
 
 But at the coming of the King of Heaven 
 
 All's set at six and seven : 
 
 We wallow in our sin, 
 
 Christ cannot find a chamber in the inn. 
 
 We entertain him always like a stranger, 
 
 And as at first still lodge him in the manger. 
 
 From Francis Pilkington's 
 Second Set of Madrigals, 
 1624. 
 
 YOU gentle njfmphs that on these meadows play, 
 And oft relate the loves of shepherds young. 
 Come sit you down, for, if you please to stay. 
 
 Now may you hear an uncouth^ passion sung : 
 A lad there is, and I am that poor groom, 
 That's fall'n in love and can not tell with whom. 
 
 From Dr. John Wilson's Cheer- 
 ful Airs or Ballads, 1660. 
 
 YOU say you love me, nay, can swear it too ; 
 But stay, sir, 'twiU not do. 
 I know you keep your oaths 
 Just as you wear your clothes, 
 While new and fresh in fashion ; 
 But once grown old, 
 You lay them by, 
 
 Forgot like words you speak in passion.. 
 I'll not believe you, I. 
 
 ' Strange, unaccustomed. 
 
OF THE ELIZABETHAN AGE. 147 
 
 From Francis Pilkington's. 
 Eirst Book of Songs or Airs, 
 1605. 
 
 "VrOU that pine in long desire, 
 ^ Help me to cry, 
 
 " Come, love, come, love ! quench this burning fire 
 Lest through thy wound I die." 
 
 Hope that tires with vain delay 
 
 Ever cries, 
 " Come, love, come, love ! hours and years decay. 
 
 In time Love's treasure dies.\" 
 
 All the day and all the night 
 
 Still I call, 
 " Come, love, come, love !" but my dear delight 
 
 Yields no relief at all. 
 
 Her unkindness scorns my moan 
 
 That still shrikes,^ 
 " Come, love, come, love ! beauty pent alone 
 
 Dies in her own dislikes." 
 
 1 Oldcd., "lyes." 2 shrieks. 
 
148 MORE LYRICS FROM THE SONG-BOOKS 
 
 From Thomas Campion's Fourth 
 Book of Airs (circ. 1617). 
 
 YOUNG and simple though I am 
 I have heard of Cupid's name, 
 Guess I can what thing it is 
 Men desire when they do kiss : 
 
 Smoke can never bum, they say, 
 But the flames that follow may. 
 
 I am not so foul or fair 
 
 To be proud or to despair ; 
 
 Yet ■ my lips have oft observed 
 
 Men that kiss them press them hard, 
 As glad lovers use to do 
 When their new-met loves they woo. 
 
 Faith, 'tis but a foolish mind, 
 Yet methinks a heat I find 
 Like thirst-longing, that doth bide 
 Ever on my weaker side. 
 
 Where they say my heart doth move : 
 
 Venus grant it be not love ! 
 
 If it be, alas ! what then ? 
 Were not women made for men ? 
 
 ' In this line and the next I have followed the text given in 
 Ferrabosco's Airs, 1609. — In Campion's song-book we have a 
 repetition of the lines " Guess I can . . . when they kiss " from 
 the first stanza. 
 
OF THE ELIZABETHAN AGE. 149 
 
 As good 'tis a thing were past, 
 
 That must needs be done at last : 
 Roses that are overblown 
 Grow less sweet, then fall alone. 
 
 Yet nor churl nor silken gull 
 Shall my maiden blossom pull : 
 Who shall not I soon can tell. 
 Who shall would I could as well : 
 
 This I know, whoe'er he be, 
 
 Love he must or flatter me. 
 
 From Thomas Weelkes 
 Madrigals, 1597. 
 
 YOUNG Cupid hath proclaimed a bloody war 
 And vows revenge on all the maiden crew : 
 Oh yield, fair Chloris, lest in that foul jar 
 
 Thine after penance makes thy folly rue. 
 And yet I fear, her wondrous beauty's such, 
 A thousand Cupids dare not Chloris touch. 
 
 From Thomas Campion's Fourth 
 Book of Airs (circ. 1617). 
 
 YOUR fair looks urge my desire : 
 Calm it, sweet, with love ! 
 Stay ; O why will you retire ? 
 Can you churlish prove .■■ 
 
ISO MORE LYRICS OP THE ELIZABETHAN AGE 
 
 If love may persuade, 
 
 Love's pleasures, dear, deny not : 
 Here is a grove secured with shade : 
 
 O then be wise, and fly not 
 
 Hark, the birds delighted sing. 
 
 Yet our pleasure sleeps : 
 Wealth to none can profit bring, 
 
 Which the miser keeps. 
 O come, while we may, 
 
 Let's chain love with embraces ; 
 We have not all times time to stay, 
 
 Nor safety in all places. 
 
 What ill find you now in this, 
 
 Or who can complain ? 
 There is nothing done amiss 
 
 That breeds no man pain, 
 'Tis now flow'ry May ; 
 
 But even in cold December, 
 When all these leaves are blown away. 
 
 This place shall I remember. 
 
NOTES. 
 
NOTES. 
 
 Page I. "A feigned friend by proof I find." — Quaint 
 old-fashioned moral verses (such as George Gascoigne 
 or Tom Churchyard might have supplied in their 
 rare moments of inspiration) were much affected by 
 Byrd. The contents of his latest book — the collection of 
 1611 — are mainly of a sententious or sacred character. 
 
 Page 4. " Are women fair and are they sweet ? " — 
 There is another, and fuller, version of this poem in 
 Davison's " Poetical Rhapsody," where it is entitled 
 "An Invective against Women," and bears the signa- 
 ture " Ignoto.'' See Sir Harris Nicolas' edition of the 
 " Rhapsody," pp. 289-290. 
 
 Page 21. " Oh shake thy head, but noi a word but 
 vtumP — The expression not a word but mum (=silence) 
 was proverbial. Cf. Peek's " Old Wives' Tale " : — 
 
 ' ' What ? not a word but mum ? then, Sacrapant, 
 Thou art betrayed." 
 
 Page 24. " Dear, do not your faiir beauty wrong." — 
 This charming song is found in Thomas May's comedy 
 "The Old Couple," 1658 ; but I strongly doubt whether 
 he wrote it. Under the title of " Love's Prime" it had 
 been included among the "Fancies and Fantastics" in 
 " Wit's Recreations," 1640. It is also found in John Cot- 
 
154 NOTES. 
 
 grave's interesting and valuable anthology, "Wit's 
 Interpreter," 1655. 
 
 Page 24. " Deceitful fancy, why delud'st thou me ?" 
 — The " Funeral Tears " are for the death of Charles 
 Blount, Earl of Devonshire, husband of the famous 
 Lady Penelope Rich. The composer's real name was 
 plain John Cooper : he adopted the more sonorous 
 name of Coperario (or Coprario) during his residence 
 in Italy. See an excellent account of him (by Mr. 
 Barclay Squire) in the " Dictionary of National Bio- 
 graphy." 
 
 Page 33. " Farewell, dear love ! since thou wilt needs 
 be gone." — It is to this song that allusion is made in 
 " Twelfth Night," ii. 3. 
 
 Page 37. " But die, poor wretch, shot through and 
 through the liver." — The mention of the liver sounds 
 inelegant to our ears ; but the reader must remember 
 that the liver was formerly supposed to be the seat of 
 love. In that delightful book, " Batman upon Bartho- 
 lomew," 1582, we are expressly told (on the authority 
 of Isidorus) that " In the lyuer is the place of volup- 
 tuousnesse and lyking of the flesh " (lib. v. cap. 39). 
 
 Page 43. "She vows that they shall lead/ Apes in 
 Avemus." — To lead apes in hell was the proverbial 
 employment of old maids in the other world. William 
 Corkine in his " Second Book of Airs," 1612, solemnly 
 warns a young lady, who had vowed perpetual maiden- 
 hood, of the peril that she was running : — 
 
 " O if you knew what chance to them befell 
 That dance about with bobtail apes in hell, 
 Yourself your virgin girdle would divide .... 
 Rather than undergo such shame : no tongue can tell 
 What injury is done to taaids in hell." 
 
NOTES. ISS 
 
 Page 45. "Hey nonny no !"— The "Mr. Gyles" 
 whose name is subscribed to these verses was probably 
 Nathaniel Giles, a musician of note. He was succes- 
 sively chorister at Magdalen, organist and master of 
 the choristers at St. George's, Windsor, and master of 
 the Children of the Chapel RoyaL He died 24 January, 
 1633, and was buried at Windsor. 
 
 Page 51. " Pleased with a thought that endeth with 
 a sigh."— The rhyme to "sigh" is "lieth"; but the 
 irregvdarity is not so great as it seems, for the word 
 " sigh " was frequently spelt " sight " and may easily 
 have been pronounced " sigheth." 
 
 " I must complain, yet do enjoy my love." — In Christ 
 Church MS. I. 5. 49 there is a copy of this song which 
 differs considerably from the printed text. After the 
 first stanza the MS. reads : — 
 
 " Thus my complaints from her untruth arise, 
 Accusing her and nature both in one ; 
 For beauty stained is but a false disguise, 
 A common wonder that is quickly gone. 
 And false fair souls cannot, for aB their feature. 
 Without a true heart make a true fair creature. 
 
 What need'[s]t thou plain if thou be still rejected ? 
 The fairest creature sometime may prove strange : 
 Continual plaints will make thee still rejected 
 If that her wanton mind be given to range : 
 And nothing better fits a man's true parts 
 Than to disdain t'encounter fair false hearts." 
 
 The song is also found (with the same text as in 
 Campion's song-book) in Dowland's " Third Book of 
 Songs or Airs," 1603. 
 
 Pagebi. "Joy to the person of my love." — TheMS. 
 music-book (preserved in the Advocates' Library) in 
 
1S6 NOTES. 
 
 which this song occurs is a volume of some interest ; 
 but all, or nearly all, the songs that it contains are ex- 
 tant in printed copies. Several pieces are from the 
 collections of Dowland, Campion, and other English 
 composers. But the following little lyric I do not 
 remember to have seen elsewhere : — 
 
 "All my wits hath will enwrapped, 
 All my sense desire entra.pped ; 
 All my faith to fancy fixed. 
 All my joys to love amixed ; 
 
 All my love I offer thee. 
 
 Once for all yet look on me. 
 
 Let me see thy heavenly feature : 
 O heavens what a heavenly creature ! 
 All the powers of heaven preserve thee ! 
 Love himself hath sworn to serve thee. 
 
 Princess in a goddess' place, 
 
 Blessed be that Angel's face ! 
 
 Look how Love thy servant dieth, 
 Hark how Hope for comfort crieth : 
 Take some pity on poor fancy. 
 Let not fancy prove a frenzy : 
 
 Comfort this poor heart of mine : 
 
 Love and I and all are thine. " 
 
 The text of the English songs in the volume has 
 been slightly Scotticised in some instances. At a 
 later date Tom D'Urfey's songs were similarly treated 
 (as Mr. Ebsworth has abundantly shown) by lettered 
 Scots. (I have used the third edition of Forbes' 
 " Cantus," 1682. The very rare first edition, i66i, I 
 have never seen.) 
 
 Page 66. " Lock up, fair lids," &c. — This song is 
 also found (with some slight textual variations) in 
 Vautor's " Airs," 1619. 
 
NOTES. 157 
 
 Page 68. " Love in thy youth, fair maid." — This 
 song is printed in Beloe's "Anecdotes," where it is 
 said to be taken from Walter Porter's "Madrigals 
 and Airs," 1632. I have searched far and wide for this 
 song-boolc, but have never been fortunate enough to 
 see a copy. There is an early manuscript copy of the 
 present song (without music) in Ashmole MS. 38, 
 No. 188. 
 
 Page 69. " Lovely shepherd, ope thine eye." — I am 
 not aware that this dainty dialogue has ever been 
 printed. Possibly it is from some lost masque. 
 
 Page 84. " Of Neptune's empire let us sing." — These 
 verses are printed in Davison's " Poetical Rhapsody," 
 with the heading "This Hymn was sung by Amphi- 
 trite, Thamesis, and other Sea-Nymphs, in Gray's Inn 
 Masque, at the Court, 1594." See Sir Harris Nicolas' 
 edition of the " Rhapsody," pp. 271, 364. 
 
 Page 90. "Rest awhile, you cruel cares." — The word 
 " ever " in the seventh line of this song is otiose and 
 should doubtless be omitted. 
 
 Page 98. " So saith my fair and beautiful Lycoris." 
 — This is a. rendering of an Italian madrigal of Luca 
 Marenzio. In the former series I gave another version 
 ("Thus saith my Chloris bright") from Wilbye's 
 "Madrigals," 1598. 
 
 Page 106. " The/ouniains smoke, and yet no flames 
 they show." — Surely fountains must be a misprint for 
 mountains. 
 
 Page 114. " Thou sent'st to me a heart was crowned." 
 — I seem to have met these verses in print somewhere, 
 but cannot at the moment trace them. For neatness 
 and elegance they are worthy of Ben Jonson. 
 
 Page 1 16. " Thyrsis and Milla, arm in arm together." 
 
IS8 NOTES. 
 
 — In HarL MS. 791, foL 55, there is a poem (beginning 
 "A silly swain that long had loved a lass") partly 
 identical with this song of Morle/s. The MS. poem 
 concludes — 
 
 ■" O fool I ' quoth she ; and so burst out in laughter. 
 Blushed, ran away, and scorned him ever after." 
 
 I should like to give the MS. text entire ; but some of 
 the verses are written with a freedom that would shock 
 sensitive ears. 
 
 Page 129. "What . . . conversing."— Here again 
 we find Campion repeating the word "conversing" 
 of 1. I at the end of 1. 3. The text may be corrupt ; 
 but I suspect that the repetition was intentional. 
 Minor poets must be careful about their rhymes ; but 
 Campion may well be allowed to take his own course. 
 How tender and beautiM are the second and third 
 stanzas ! 
 
 Page 134. " When I was bom Lucina cross-legged 
 sat," /.«. to prolong the pangs of child-birth and hinder 
 the child's entrance to the world. Witches were 
 frequently accused of sitting cross-legged at the door 
 of travailing women. 
 
 Page 143. " IVomen, what are they ? — We men, what 
 are we ? " — The play on the words women and we men 
 was greatly relished by our old poets. Cf. Peek's 
 " Edward I.":— 
 
 ■' Lancaster. Believe him not, sweet niece : we men can speak 
 smooth for advantage. 
 
 Joan. Women, do you mean, my good uncle ? Well, be the 
 accent where it will, women are women." 
 
 Page 145. " Yet if his majesty," &c. — In the MS. 
 
NOTES. IS9 
 
 these fine verses are followed by Shakespeare's " Sigh 
 no more, ladies," set to music by Thomas Ford. 
 
 Page 148. "Young and simple though I am." — 
 There is a copy of this song in Advocates' MS. 5. 2. 
 14. It concludes with the following additional stanza : — 
 
 ' ' Married wives may take or leave ; 
 When they list, refuse, receive ; 
 We poor maids may not do so, 
 We must answer Ay with No : 
 We must seem strange, coy, and curst. 
 Yet do we would fain if we durst" 
 
LIST OF SONG-BOOKS. 
 
 AMNER, JOHN. Sacred Hymns, 161$. Page 2. 
 Attey.John. First Book 0/ Airs, 1622. 56,106. 
 Barley, William. New Book of Tabliture, 1596. 
 
 112. 
 Bartlet, John. Airs, 1606. 50, 107, 132. 
 Bateson, Thomas. First Set of English Madrigals, 
 1604. 31, 72, 100. 
 Second Set of Madrigals, 1618. ij, 23, 37,45,49, 
 S3, 73, 86, 102, 107. 
 Byrd, William. Psalms, Sonnets and Songs, 1588. 
 3> 16, 57, 138. 
 Songs of Sundry Natures, 1589. 4, 54, 144. 
 Psalms, Songs, and Sonnets, 1611. i, 105. 
 Campion, Thomas. Gesta Graiorum. Grays Inn 
 Masque, 1594. 84. 
 Description of a Masque presented before the Kin^s 
 
 Majesty at Whitehall, 1607. 75, 78. 
 Two Books of Airs [circ. 1613]. 18, 19, 30, 41, 
 
 46, no, 120, 126. 
 Third Book of Airs [circ. 1617]. 10, 12, 54, 97, 
 
 129. 
 Fourth Book of Airs. 51, 68, 80, 90, 98, 113, 125, 
 148, 149. 
 Campion, Thomas, and Rosseter, Philip. Book of 
 
 M 
 
i62 LIST OF SONG-BOOKS. 
 
 Airs, 1601. 13, 36, 42, 48, IS, S9, 89, 93, 104, 
 IIS, 121,136. 
 Carlton, Richard. Madrigals, 1601. 22, 56, 66, 
 
 no, 141. 
 CoPERARio, John. Funeral Tears, 1606. 24, 82. 
 CoRKiNK, William. Airs, 1610. 102. 
 
 Second Book of Airs, 1612. 94, 95, 121, 134. 
 Danyel, John. Songs for the Lute, Viol, and Voice, 
 
 1606. 52, 117, 128, 142. 
 Dowland, John. First Book of Songs or Airs, 1 597. 
 9,90,123, 141. 
 Second Book of Songs or Airs, 1600. 21, 71, 76, 
 
 118. 
 Third Book of Songs or Airs, 1603. 35, 83, 92. 
 A Pilgriiris Solace, 16 12. 26, 38. 
 EsTE, Michael. Madrigals, 1604. 31, 97, 119, 135. 
 Farnaby, Giles. Canzonets, 1598. 100. 
 Ferrabosco, Alfonso. Airs, 1609. 29, 104. 
 Forbes, John. Cantus, Songs and Fancies, \(>6i. 61. 
 Gibbons, Orlando. First Set of Madrigals, 1612. 
 
 32, 64, 74, 120. 
 Greaves, Thomas. Songsof Sundry Kinds, i(x>ir. 64. 
 Hilton, John. Airs, 1627. 1 14. 
 Jones, Robert. First Book of Songs and Airs, 
 1601. 33, 6s, 81, 88, 128, 134, 139, 143. 
 Second Book of Songs and Airs, 1601. 25, 32, 35. 
 First Set of Madrigals, 1607. 67, 96, 112. 
 Ultimum Vale, 1608. 7, 17, 26, 28,95, i°i) I37' 
 Musical Dream, idoq. 3,51,72,133. 
 The Muses? Garden of Delights, 1610. 47, 60, 85, 
 99, 106, 108. 
 Kirbye, George. First Set of English Madrigals. 
 
LIST OF SONG-BOOKS. 163 
 
 MoRLEY, Thomas. Introduction to Practical Music, 
 1597. 96. 
 First Book of Airs, 1600. 21, 70, 116. 
 First Book of Ballets, 1600. 130. 
 Madrigals, l6co. 85. 
 Musica Transalpina, The Second Book of Madrigals, 
 
 1597. 98. 
 Peerson, Martin. Private Music, 1620. 15,20,58, 
 
 66, 67, 82, 87, 109, 124. 
 PiLKiNGTON, Francis. First Book of Songs or Airs,. 
 1605. 11,79,147. 
 First Set of Madrigals, 1614. 94. 
 Second Set of Madrigals, idii^ 146. 
 Porter, Walter. Madrigals and Airs, idy.. 68. 
 Ravenscroft, Thomas. Pammelia, 1609. 43. 
 
 Melismata, 1611. 143. 
 Robinson, Thomas. New Cithern Lessons, 1609. 77. 
 Smith, Stafford. Musica Antiqua. 24. 
 Vautor, Thomas. Songs of Divers Airs ana 
 
 Natures, 1619. 14, 123. 
 Weelkes, Thomas. Madrigals, \<,<y]. 2,113,149. 
 Madrigals of five and six parts, 1600. 76, 115, 
 Madrigals of Six Parts, idoo. 116. 
 Airs or Fantastic Spirits, 1608. 1 19. 
 WiLBYE, John. Second Set of Madrigals, i(>o(). 18 
 
 100. 
 Wilson, Dr. John. Cheerful Airs or Ballads, 1660 
 38, 39. 131, 132, 13s, 146. 
 
 Add. MS. 10,338. Page 69. 
 15,117. 91. 
 17,790-2. 14, 73, 127. 
 18,936. 88. 
 
i64 LIST OF SONG-BOOKS. 
 
 ■ Christ Church MS. I. i. 13. 140. 
 /. 4. 78. 122, 125. 
 /. S.49. 6,20,23,45,111. 
 K. 3. 43-7. 4, 65, 74, 103, 107, 145. 
 Mus. Sch. MS. F.S7S- 46,56,114. 
 
 CHISWICK PRESS :— C. WHITTINGHAM AND CO., TOOKS COURT, 
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LONDON, 
 14 KING WILLIAM STREET, STRAND, W.C. 
 
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 Note. — These pages are written in the character of a shrewd, observant, 
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 Annals of the English Stage 
 
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 A BIBLIOGRAPHICAL ACCOUNT 
 
 OF 
 
 English Theatrical Literature 
 
 FROM 
 
 TEE EARLIEST TIMES TO THE PRESENT DAY. 
 By ROBERT W. LOWE. 
 
 Note. — There is as yet no Bibliography of the general literature of the 
 stage. Plays have been catalogued many times, and some of our greatest 
 bibliographers have directed their attention to Shakespearian literature ; 
 but no attempt has been made to give even the baldest catalogue of the 
 large and curious mass of books relating to the History of the Stage, the 
 Biography of Actors and Actresses, the Controversy regarding the Influ- 
 ence of the Stage, the numerous curious Theatrical Trials, and the many 
 scandalous attacks on the personal character of celebrated performers. In 
 the last two classes especially there are many carious pamphlets dealing 
 with the strangest scandals, and often containing the most disgraceful 
 accusations, of which no account is to be found except in the originals 
 themselves, which, having been in many cases suppressed, are of extreme 
 rarity. 
 
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 majority of which are taken directly from the works described. These 
 will be arranged alphabetically, with exhaustive cross-references. Notes 
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 work will have a historical as well as bibliographical value, and will 
 form a History of the Stage, especially in those details of which regular 
 histories take little or no cognisance. Flays will be excluded, except 
 where they have prefaces, &c., of historical or controversial interest; and 
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 underwood are but too likely to embarrass and offend the feet of the rangers 
 and the gardeners who trim the level flower-plots or preserve the domestic 
 game of enclosed and ordered lowlands in the tamer demesnes of literature. 
 The sun is strong and the wind sharp in the climate which reared the fel- 
 lows and the followers of Shakespeare. The extreme inequality and rough- 
 ness of the ground must also be taken into account when we are disposed, 
 as I for one have often been disposed, to wonder beyond measure at the 
 apathetic ignorance of average students in regard of the abundant treasure 
 to be gathered from this widest and most fruitful province in the poetic 
 empire of England. And yet, since Charles Lamb threw open its gates to 
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 Carefully Revised and Collated with the Latest Editions. 
 
 Note. — The publication of this Complete Library Edition 
 of the Writings and Speeches of a great Writer and Orator, 
 whose works have been so frequently quoted of late in the British 
 Houses of Parliament, the publisher feels may be opportune to 
 many readers and admirers of one of the greatest of the sons of 
 men. Viewed in the light of the present age, how great is our 
 admiration of that foresight which foretold, and that wisdom which 
 would have averted, the storms which menaced the peace and well- 
 being of his country ! His public labours present a continuous 
 struggle against the stupidity, the obstinacy, and the venality of 
 the politicians of his day. 
 
 So long as virtue shall be beloved, wisdom revered, or genius 
 admired, so long will the memory of this iUustrious exemplar of 
 all be fresh in the world's history ; for htunan natinre has too 
 much interest in the preservation of such a character ever to 
 permit the name of EDMUND BURKE to perish from the earth. 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 Vindication of Natural Society. 
 
 The Sublime and Beautiful. 
 
 Observations On a Late Publication 
 on " The Present State of the 
 Nation." 
 
 Thoughts on the Cause of the Pre- 
 sent Discontents. 
 
 Reflections on the Revolution in 
 France. 
 
 Thoughts on French Affairs. 
 
 Thoughts and Details on Scarcity. 
 
 Hints for an Essay on the Drama. 
 An Essay towards an Abridgment 
 
 of the English History, 
 Papers on India. 
 Articles of Charge against Warren 
 
 Hastings. 
 Speeches in the Impeachment of 
 
 Warren Hastings. 
 Miscellaneous Speeches. 
 Letters. 
 Index, &c. 
 
 14 King William Street, Strand, London, W. C. 
 
Publications of John C. Nimmo. 
 
 STANDARD HISTORICAL WORKS— continued. 
 
 Medium 8vo, fine paper, with Four Etched Portraits, &c., cloth, 
 2 IS. tut. 
 
 The Autobiography of Edward, 
 
 LORD HERBERT OF CHERBURY. 
 
 With Introduction, Notes, Appendices, and a 
 Continuation of the Life. 
 
 By SYDNBT L. LEB, B.A., Balliol College, Oxford. 
 
 Notes and Queries. 
 
 " Lord Herbert's autobiography is an absolute masterpiece, worthy of the 
 place assigned it by Mr. Swinburne among the best one hundred books. 
 Qtute fascinating are the records of adventure Lord Herbert supplies, and the 
 book, when once the preliminary statement of pedigree, &c., is got over, will 
 be read to the last line by every reader of taste. A new lease of popularity is 
 conferred upon it by the handsome and scholarly reprint Mr. Lee has given to 
 the world. The volume itself belongs to the series of library reprints of Mr. 
 Nimmo, which are simply the most attractive of the day. Mr. Lee, meanwhile, 
 has executed in the most scrupulous, careful, and competent manner the task 
 of editing." 
 
 Medium 8vo, fine paper, with Four Etched Portraits, &c., cloth, 
 2 IS. net. 
 
 The Life of William Cavendish, 
 
 DUKE OF NEWCASTLE, 
 
 To which is added the True Relation of My Birth, 
 Breeding, and Life. 
 
 By MABOABET, DUCHESS OF NEWCASTLE. 
 
 Edited by C. H. FIRTH, M.A. 
 
 Saturday Review. 
 
 " The book is, without doubt, a pleasant one. In the midst of the stony- 
 hearted Restoration, its naive enthusiasm, its quaint and embroidered elo- 
 quence, its flavour of a bygone day, give it a curious charm. It is like a Shirley 
 flourishing on into the age of Shadwell and Etherege." 
 
 The Scotsman. 
 
 "It has a distinct value as a contemporary picture of the life, modes of 
 thought, and habits of a great Royalist nobleman, who played a prominent 
 part in some of the most memorable episodes of Enghsh history." 
 
 14 King William Street, Strand, London, W. C. 
 
Publications of John C. Nitnmo. 
 
 STANDARD HISTORICAL WORKS— continued. 
 
 Medium 8vo, fine paper, with Ten Etched Portraits, &c., cloth. 
 Two Volumes, 42s. net. 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL 
 HUTCHINSON. 
 
 By his Widow, LUCT. 
 Revised ahd Edited by CHARLES H, FIRTH, M.A. 
 
 Athenaeum. 
 
 " Is an excellent edition of a famous book. Mr. Firth presents the • Memoirs ' 
 vrith a modernised orthography and a revised scheme of punctuation. He 
 retains the notes of Julius Hutchinson, and supplements them by annotations 
 — corrective and explanatory — of his own. Since their pubUcation in 1805, the 
 ' Memoirs ' have been a kind of classic. To say that this is the best and ftillest 
 edition of them in existence is to say everything." 
 
 Medium 8to, fine paper, Roxburghe binding, gilt top, and 
 Two Etchings, price 15s. 
 
 A Chronicle History of the Life and 
 Work of William Shakespeare. 
 
 PLAYER, POET, AND PLAYMAKER, 
 By T. a. FLEAY, M.A. 
 
 From Professor A. W. Ward's Preface to the Second Edition 
 of Marlowe's "Dr. Faustus." 
 
 "Mr. Fleay's new Life of Shakespeare will, in my opinion, before long be 
 acknowledged as one of the most important works on the history of the Eliza- 
 bethan drama which this age has produced." 
 
 Extract from a Letter to the Author from Dr. H. H, Fumess. 
 
 "The man himself was always unreal to me, and I never could bring myself 
 to believe that he ever really existed. But your book has left upon me the 
 impression, as deep as it is strange, that such a man did really live, and that 
 he belonged to the noble army of workers. 
 
 " I had confidence in you and followed holding your hand, at times lost in 
 wonder and admiration over the miraculous memory and indefatigable research 
 of my guide." 
 
 14 King William Street, Strand, London, W.C. 
 
Publications of John C, Nimmo. 13 
 
 STANDARD HISTORICAL WORKS— continued. 
 
 Copyright Edition, with Ten Etched Portraits. In Ten Vols., demy 8vo, 
 cloth, ;^5, 5s. nei. 
 
 Lingard's History of England. 
 
 FROM THE FIRST INVASION BY THE ROMANS TO THE 
 ACCESSION OF WILLIAM AND MARY IN 1688. 
 
 By JOHN LINGARI}, D.B. 
 
 This New Copyright Library Edition of " Lingard's History of England," 
 besides containing all the latest notes and emendations of the Author, with 
 Memoir, is enriched with Ten Portraits, newly etched by Damman, of the 
 following personages, viz. : — Dr. Lingard, Edward I., Edward III., Cardinal 
 Wolsey, Cardinal Pole, Elizabeth, James I., Cromwell, Charles II., 
 James II. 
 
 The Times. 
 
 " No greater service can be rendered to literature than the republication, in 
 a handsome and attractive form, of works which time and the continued 
 approbation of the world have made classical. . . . The accuracy of Lingard's 
 statements on many points of controversy, as well as the genial sobriety of his 
 view, is now recognised." 
 
 The Tablet. 
 
 " It is with the greatest satisfaction that we welcome this new edition of Dr. 
 Lingard's 'History of England.' It has long been a desideratum. . . . No 
 general history of England has appeared which can at all supply the place of 
 Lingard, whose painstaking industry and careful research have dispelled many 
 a popular delusion, whose candour always carries his reader with him, and 
 whose clear and even style is never fatiguing." 
 
 The Spectator. 
 
 "We are glad to see that the demand for Dr. Lingard's England sti\l con- 
 tinues. Few histories give the reader the same impression of ej^austive study. 
 This new edition is excellently printed, and illustrated vrith ten portraits of the 
 greatest personages in our history." 
 
 Dublin Review. 
 
 " It is pleasant to notice that the demand for Lingard continues to be such 
 that publishers venture on a well-got-up library edition Uke the one before us. 
 More than sixty years have gone since the first volume of the first edition was 
 published ; many equally pretentious histories have appeared during that 
 space, and have more or less disappeared since, yet Lingard Uves — is still a 
 recognised and respected authority." 
 
 The Scotsman. 
 
 " There is no need, at this time of day, to say anything in vindication of the 
 importance, as a standard work, of Dr. Lingard's 'History of England.' . . . 
 Its intrinsic merits are very great. The style is lucid, pointed, and puts no 
 strain upon the reader ; and the printer and publisher have neglected nothing 
 that could make this — what it is likely long to remain— the standard edition of 
 a work of great historical and Uterary value." 
 
 Daily Telegraph. 
 
 "True learning, untiring research, a philosophic temper, and the possession 
 of a graphic, pleasing style were the quaUties which the author brought to his 
 task, and they are displayed in every chapter of his history." 
 
 14 King William Street, Strand, London, W. C. 
 
14 Publications of John C. Nimmo. 
 
 STANDARD HISTORICAL WORKS— continued. 
 
 Two Volumes, 8vo, Sixty-four Portraits, Roxburghe binding, 
 gilt top, price 30s. net. 
 
 MEMOIRS OF COUNT GRAMMONT. 
 
 By ANTHONY HAMILTON. 
 
 A New Edition, Edited, with Notes, by SIR WALTER SCOTT. 
 With Sixty-four Portraits Engraved by Edward Scriven. 
 
 Hallam. 
 "The ' Memoirs of Grammont,' by Anthony Hamilton, scarcely challenge a 
 place as historical ; but we are now looking more at the style than the intrinsic 
 importance of books. Every one is aware of the peculiar felicity and fascinat- 
 ing gaiety which they display." 
 
 T. B. Macaulay. 
 
 "The artist to whom we owe the most highly finished and vividly coloured 
 picture of the EngUsh Court in the days when the English Court was gayest" 
 
 Medium 8vo, fine paper. Eighty-eight Illustrations, cloth, gilt top, 
 price 2 IS. nei. 
 
 OLD TIMES: 
 
 A PICTURE OF SOCIAL LIFE AT THE END OF THE 
 EIGHTEENTH CENTURY. 
 
 Collected and Illustrated from the Satirical and other 
 Sketches of the Day. 
 
 By JOHN ASHTON. 
 
 Author of " Social Life in the Reign of Queen Anne." 
 
 With Eighty-eight Illustrations. 
 
 Daily Telegraph, 
 " That is the best and truest history of the past which comes nearest to the 
 life of the bulk of the people. It is in this spirit that Mr. John Ashton has 
 composed ' Old Times,' intended to be a picture of social hfe at the end of 
 the eighteenth century. The illustrations form a very valuable, and at the 
 same time quaint and amusing, feature of the volume." 
 
 Saturday Review. 
 " ' Old Times,' however, is not only valuable as a book to be taken up for 
 a few minutes at a time ; a rather careful reading will repay those who wish 
 to brush up their recollections of the period. To some extent it may serve as 
 a book of reference, and even historians may find in it some useful matter con- 
 cerning the times of which it treats. The book is in every respect suited for a 
 hall or library table in a country house." 
 
 14 King William Street, Strand, London, W. C. 
 
Publications of John C. Nimmo. 
 
 IS 
 
 STANDARD HISTORICAL WORKS— continued. 
 
 THE MONKS OF THE WEST, 
 
 FROM ST. BENEDICT TO ST. BERNARD. 
 
 By the COUNT DE MONTALEMBERT, 
 
 Member tf the French Academy, 
 
 Authorised Translation. Seven Volumes 8vo, cloth, £^, 4s. net. 
 {Published by Messrs. W. Blackwood & Sons, Edinburgh.) 
 
 CONTENTS OF THE WORK. 
 
 Introduction. 
 
 The Roman Empire after the Peace 
 of the Church. 
 
 Monastic Precursors in the East. 
 
 Monastic Precursors in the West. 
 
 St. Benedict. 
 
 St. Gregory the Great — Monastic 
 Italy and Spain in the Sixth and 
 Seventh Centuries. 
 
 The Monks under the First Merovin- 
 gians. 
 
 St. Columbanus — ^The Irish in Gaul 
 and the Colonies of Luxeuil. 
 
 Christian Origin of the British Isles. 
 
 St. Columba, the Apostle of Cale- 
 donia, 521-597. 
 
 St. Augustin of Canterbury and the 
 Roman Missionaries in England, 
 597-633. 
 
 The Celdc Monks and the Anglo- 
 Saxons. 
 
 St. Wilfrid establishes Roman Unity 
 and the Benedictine Order, 634-709. 
 
 Contemporaries and Successors of St. 
 Wilfrid, 650-735. 
 
 Social and Political Iniluence of the 
 Monks among the Anglo-Saxons. 
 
 The Anglo-Saxon Nuns. 
 
 The Church and the Feudal System — 
 The Monastic Orders and Society. 
 
 St. Gregory, Monk and Pope. 
 
 The Predecessors of Calixtus II. 
 
 Times. 
 
 "Whatever the Count touches he of necessity adorns. He has produced a 
 great and most interesting v^ork, full of curious facts, and lit up with most noble 
 eloquence." 
 
 Freeman's Journal. 
 
 " Of the translation, we must say it is in every respect worthy the original 
 The nervous style of the author is admirably preserved. It is at the same time 
 spirited and faithful." 
 
 Standard. 
 
 " No library of English history will be complete without these glowing pic- 
 tures of the ' Monks of the West.' " 
 
 Note. ^Very few sets of this important and well-known work are now 
 
 left for sale. 
 
 14 King William Street, Strand, London, W.C. 
 
1 6 Publications of John C. Nimmo. 
 
 STANDARD HISTORICAL WORKS— continued. 
 
 The Lives of the Queens of Scotland, 
 
 AND ENGLISH PRINCESSES CONNECTED WITH THE 
 REGAL SUCCESSION OF GREAT BRITAIN. 
 
 B7 AQNES STBIOKLAND. 
 
 With Portraits and Historical Vignettes. 
 
 Eight Volumes, post 8vo, cloth, £^, 4s. net. Also in full calf and half 
 calf bindings, 
 
 {Published by Messrs. W. Blackwood & Sons, Edinburgh.) 
 
 CONTENTS OF THE WORK. 
 
 Life of Margaret Tudor, Queen of 
 James IV. 
 
 Life of Magdalene of France, First 
 Queen of James V. 
 
 Life of Mary of Lorraine, Second 
 Queen of James V. 
 
 Life of the Lady Margaret Douglas, 
 Countess of Lennox. 
 
 Life of Mary Stuart, Queen of Scot- 
 land. 
 
 Life of Elizabeth Stuart, First Prin- 
 cess Royal of Great Britain. 
 
 Life of Sophia, Electress of Hanover. 
 
 English Review. 
 
 " Miss Strickland has not only been fortunate in the selection of her subject, 
 but she has sustained to the full her high reputation for research." 
 
 The Standard. 
 
 " In ' The Queens of Scotland ' Miss Strickland prosecutes her original task 
 with as careful research as in her first work, and with undiminished spirit and 
 unaltered delicacy." 
 
 The Guardian. 
 
 ' ' We discern freedom and ease of manner, a judicious selection of materials, 
 an evenly balanced judgment, and the sobriety and decision which are the fruits 
 of wide historical knowledge," 
 
 Blackv70od's Magazine. 
 
 " Every step in Scotland is historical ; the shades of the dead arise on every 
 side ; the very rocks breathe. Miss Strickland's talents as a writer, and turn 
 of mind as an individual, in a peculiar manner fit her for painting a historical 
 gallery of the most illustrious or dignified female characters in that land of 
 cliivaljy and song." 
 
 Note. — Very few sets of this delightful work are now left for sale. 
 14 King William Street, Strand, London, W.C. 
 
Publications of John C. Nimmo. 17 
 
 OCTAVE UZANNE'S ILLUSTRATED WORKS. 
 
 Royal Svo, cloth, gilt top, Illustrations engraved in colours, 
 price 42s. net. 
 
 The Frenchwoman of the Century. 
 
 FASHIONS— MANNERS— USAGES. 
 By OCTAVE UZANNE. 
 
 lUustrations in Water Colours by Albert 'Lynch. Engraved in Colours 
 by EuGfeNE Gaujean. 
 
 Morning' Post. — " Graceful and light as is this book fay M. Octave Uzanne, the 
 clever author of ' The Fan ' and ' The Sunshade, MuflF, and Glove,' and other works 
 marked fay a mre originality, it affords a more complete insight into the ideas of the 
 women of France of this century and of the influence exercised by them than is apparent 
 on the surface. An idea can be formed of the prodigality and luxury that prevailed at 
 the Court of the First Empire by 'a serio-comic document' circulated in 1807 as 'an 
 account of the annual expense of a female fop of Paris/ Its different items amount to 
 the sum of iQo,ooofr., or ;C7€oo sterling. The women of fashion of a later period are not 
 less well photo^aphed. There are some sparkling pages on those of 1830, at the time 
 when Balzac discovered and sang * La Femme de Trente Ans,* * whose beauty shines 
 with all the brightness of a perfumed summer.' Speaking the truth always, but with 
 native gallantry seeking to conceal its harshness, M. Uzanne tells his countrywomen of 
 to-day that * the woman of this end of the century rei^s despotically still in our hearts, 
 but has no longer the same happy influence on our spirits, our manners, our society.* To 
 account for this, as indeed in writing of the moral aspect of all the different social phases 
 that come within his scope, the author reasons of cause and effect with an able lucidity 
 that skilfully avoids dulness. The illustrations are, without exception, artistic and 
 spirituelle^ and contribute to make of this elegantly bound work, a veritable * volume de 
 luxe,' which worthily continues the series of productions from M. Uzanne's brilliant and 
 facile pen." 
 
 Royal Svo, cloth, gilt top, 31s. 6d, net» 
 
 THE FA N . By OCTAVE UZANNE. 
 Illustrations by Paul Avuil. 
 
 Standard. — " It gives a complete history of fans of all ages and places ; the illustra- 
 tions are dainty in the extreme. Those who wish to make a pretty and appropriate 
 present to a young lady cannot do better than purchase * The Fan.' " 
 
 Athenseum. — " The letterpress comprises much amusing ' chit-chat,' and is more solid 
 than it pretends to be. This brochure is worth reading ; nay, it is worth keeping." 
 
 Royal Svo, cloth, gilt top, 31s. 6d. net. 
 
 The Sunshade, Muff, and Glove. 
 
 By OCTAVE UZANNE, 
 
 Illustrations by PAUL AVRIL. 
 
 Art Journal, — " At first sight it would seem that material could never be found to 
 fill even a volume ; but the author, in dealing with his first subject alone, ' The Sun- 
 shade/ says he could easily have filled a dozen volumes of this emblem of sovereignty. 
 The work is delightfully illustrated in a novel manner by Paul Avril, the pictures which, 
 meander about the work being printed in various colours." 
 
 14 King William Street^ Strand^ London^ IV. C, 
 
i8 Publications of John C. Nimmo. 
 
 Charming Editions, Illustrated with Etchings, of Standard Works, 
 
 suitable for presentation. Crown 8vo, handsomely bound, either 
 
 in cloth or parchment bindings, price Js. 6d. per volume. 
 
 1. THE TALES AND POEMS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE. 
 
 With Biographical Essay by John H. Ingram ; and Fourteen Original 
 Etchings, Three Photogravures, and a Portrait newly etched from a life- 
 hke Daguerrotype of the Author. In Four Volumes. 
 
 2. WEIRD TALES. By E. T. W. Hoffman. A New Translation 
 
 from the German. With Biographical Memoir by J. T. Bealby, for- 
 merly Scholar of Corpus Christi College, Cambridge. With Portrait 
 and Ten Original Etchings by Ad. Lalauze. In Two Volumes. 
 
 3. THE LIFE AND OPINIONS OF TRISTRAM SHANDY, 
 
 Gentleman. By Laurence Sterne. In Two Vols. With Eight 
 Etchings by Damman from Original Drawings by Harry Furniss. 
 
 4. THE OLD ENGLISH BARON : A Gothic Story. By Clara 
 
 Reeve. THE CASTLE OE OTRANTO: A Gothic Story. 
 By Horace Walpole. In One Vol. With Two Portraits and Four 
 Original Drawings by A. H. TouRRiER, Etched by Damman. 
 
 5. THE ARABIAN NIGHTS ENTERTAINMENTS. In Four 
 
 Vols. Carefully Revised and Corrected from the Arabic by Jonathan 
 Scott, LL.D., Oxford. With Nineteen Original Etchings by Ad. 
 Lalauze. 
 
 6. THE HISTORY OF THE CALIPH VATHEK, By Wm. 
 
 Beckford. With Notes, Critical, and Explanatory. RASSELAS, 
 PRINCE OF ABYSSINIA. By Samuel Johnson. In One 
 Vol. With Portrait of Beckford, and Four Original Etchings, designed 
 by A. H. Tourrier, and Etched by DAMMAN. 
 
 7. ROBINSON CRUSOE. By Daniel Defoe. In Two Vols. With 
 
 Biographical Memoir, Illustrative Notes, and Eight Etchings by M. 
 MouiLLERON, and Portrait by L. Flameng. 
 
 8. GULLIVER'S TRAVELS. By Jonathan Swift. With Five 
 
 Etchings and Portrait by Ad. Lalauze. 
 
 9. A SENTIMENTAL JOURNEY. By Laurence Sterne. A 
 
 TALE OF A TUB. By Jonathan Swift. In One Vol. With 
 Five Etchings and Portrait by Ed. Hedouin. 
 la THE HISTORY OF DON QUIXOTE DE LA MANCHA. 
 Translated from the Spanish of Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra by 
 MOTTEUX. With copious Notes (including the Spanish Ballads), and 
 an Essay on the Life and Writings of Cervantes by John G. Lock- 
 hart. Preceded by a Short Notice of the Life and Works of Peter 
 Anthony Motteux by Henri van Laun. Illustrated with Sixteen 
 Original Etchings by R. DE Los Rios. Four Volumes. 
 
 11. LAZARILLO DE TORMES. By Don Diego Mendoza. Trans- 
 
 lated by Thomas Roscoe. And GUZMAN D'ALFARACHE. 
 By Mateo Aleman. Translated by Brady. Illustrated with Eight 
 Original Etchings by R. de Los Rios. Two Volumes. 
 
 12. ASMODEUS. By Le Sage. Translated from the French. Illus- 
 
 trated with Four Original Etchings by R. de Los Rios. 
 
 13. THE BACHELOR OF SALAMANCA. By Le Sage. Trans- 
 
 lated from the French by James Townsend. Illustrated with Four 
 Origmal Etchings by R. de Los Rios. 
 
 Continued next page. 
 14 King William Street, Strand, London, W. C. 
 
Publications of John C. Nimmo. 19 
 
 Continued from page 18, 
 
 14. VANILLO GONZALES ; or, The Merry Bachelor. By Le Sage. 
 Translated from the French. Illustrated with Four Original Etchings 
 by R. DE Los Rios. 
 
 IS THE ADVENTURES OF GIL BLAS OF SANTILLANE. 
 
 Translated from the French of Le Sage by Tobias Smollett. With 
 Biographical and Critical Notice of LE SAGE by Geoege Saintsbury. 
 New Edition, carefully revised. Illustrated with Twelve Original Etch- 
 ings by R. DE Los Rids. Three Volumes. 
 
 The Times. 
 
 "Among the numerous handsome reprints which the publishers of the day 
 vie with each other in producing, we have seen nothing of greater merit than 
 this series of volumes. Those who have read these masterpieces of the last 
 century in the homely garb of the old editions may be gratified with the oppor- 
 tunity of perusing them with the advantages of large clear print and illustrations 
 of a quality which is rarely bestowed on such reissues. The series deserves 
 every commendation." 
 
 Royal 8to, cloth extra, printed in colours and gilt top, price 12s. 6d. 
 An elegant and choicely Illustrated Edition of 
 
 GOLDSMITH'S VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. 
 
 With Prefatory Memoir by George Saintsbury, 
 
 And One Hundred and Fourteen Coloured Illustrations by V. A. Poikson 
 (Illustrator of " Gulliver's Travels "). 
 
 Saturday Review. 
 
 "Goldsmith's immortal tale is here delightfully illustrated in colour, and 
 there is a prefatory memoir by Mr, George Saintsbury, full of delicate criticism 
 and careful research. The illustrations are sketchy, fresh, merry, and in colours 
 perfectly harmonious. Such a book is a boon to the cultivated reader of every 
 age." 
 
 The Guardian. 
 
 " A new edition of the ' Vicar of Wakefield ' naturally appears with every fresh 
 variety of the arts of printing or illustration. M. Poirson showed so keen an 
 appreciation of the peculiar humour of 'Gulliver's Travels,' that it was only to 
 be expected that he should try his hand at an even more popular book. Mr. 
 Saintsbury has prefixed an excellent critical memoir, and altogether, if Gold- 
 smith could have chosen the garb in which he would best like his Vicar to 
 appear, his ideas would probably have jumped with those of the present pub- 
 lisher." 
 
 The Graphic. 
 
 " They are indeed some of the most excellent specimens of artistic colour- 
 printing now to be seen ; and the book is a wonder of cheapness, seeing it is 
 sold at the low sum of 12s. 6d." 
 
 14 King William Street, Strand, London, W. C. 
 
Fublications of John C. Nimmo. 
 
 % Ittfo anb> ^^autifttl fMlion of l|f{ |mitalioti of d^ist. 
 
 In demy 8vo, with Fifteen Etchings, bound in full white parchment, 
 gilt top, price 2is. net. 
 
 The Imitation of Christ. 
 
 FOUR BOOKS. 
 
 Translated from the Latin by Jlev. W. BEN HAM, B.D., 
 
 Rector of St. Edmund, King and Martyr, Lombard Street, London. 
 
 The text and quaint borders printed in brown ink on fine vellum paper, 
 and illustrated with Fifteen Etchings by L. Flameng and Ch. Waltner, 
 from designs by J. P. Laurens and Henry Levy, printed on Japanese 
 paper, make this, for presentation purposes, one of the most beautiful 
 editions at present to be had. 
 
 Scotsman, 
 " We have not seen a more beautiful edition of ' The Imitation of Christ ' 
 than this one for many a day," 
 
 Magazine of Art, 
 " This new edition of the ' Imitation ' may fairly be regarded as a work of 
 art. It is well and clearly printed ; the paper is excellent ; each page has its 
 peculiar border, and it is illustrated with fifteen etchings. Further than that 
 the translation is Mr. Benham's we need say nothing more," 
 
 Second Edition, post 8vo, cloth elegant, gilt top, price Ss. 
 
 Carols and Poems. 
 
 FROM THE FIFTEENTH CENTURY TO THE PRESENT TIME. 
 
 Edited by A. H, BULLEN, B.A. 
 
 Note. — 120 copies printed on fine medium 8vo paper, with Seven 
 Illustrations on Japanese paper. Each copy numbered. 
 
 Saturday Review. 
 
 " Since the publication of Mr. Sandys's collection there have been many books 
 issued on carols, but the most complete by far that we have met with is Mr. 
 BuUen's new volume, ' Carols and Poems from the Fifteenth Century to the 
 Present Time.' The preface contains an interesting account of Christmas 
 festivities and the use of carols. Mr. Bullen has exercised great care in verify- 
 ing and correcting the collections of his predecessors, and he has joined to 
 them two modern poems by Hawker, two by Mr. William Morris, and others 
 by Mr. Swinburne, Mr. Symonds, and Miss Rossetti, Altogether this is one of 
 the most welcome books of the season." 
 
 14 King William Street, Strand, London, W. C. 
 
Publications of John C. Nimmo. 
 
 Two Yery Funny and Humorously Illustrated Books by 
 
 A. B. FROST. 
 
 Crown 8vo, cloth, gilt top, with One Hundred Illustrations, price 5s. 
 
 RUDDER GRANGE. By frank R. STOCKTON. 
 
 The Times. — "Many of the smaller drawings are wonderfully spirited-, 
 there are sketchy suggestions of scenery, which recall the pregnant touches of 
 Bewick ; and the figures of animals and of human types are capital, from the 
 row of roosting fowls at the begmning of the chapter to the dilapidated tramp 
 standing hat in hand." 
 
 Court and Society Review. — "After looking at the pictures we found our- 
 selves reading the book again, and enjoying Pomona and her reading, and her 
 adyenture with the lightning rodder, and her dog-fight as much as"ever. And 
 to read it twice over is the greatest compliment you can pay to a book of 
 American humour." 
 
 Art Journal.— "Mr. Stockton, the author, and Mr. Frost, the artist, have 
 here gone band in hand to produce the most humorous of stories with the best 
 results." 
 
 Monilng Post. — " It will be welcomed in its new dress by many who have 
 already made the acquaintance of Euphemia and Pomona, as well as by many 
 who will now meet those excellent types of feminine character for the first time." 
 
 Saturday Review. — " The new edition of ' Rudder Grange' has a hundred 
 illustrations by Mr. A. B. Frost ; they are extremely good, and worthy of Mr. 
 Stockton's amusing book." 
 
 Small 4to, One Hundred and Twenty Illustrations, price 6s. 
 
 STUFF AND NONSENSE. By a b. frost. 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 The Fatal Mistake— A Tale of a Cat. 
 
 Ye ^Esthete, ye Boy, and ye Bullfrog. 
 
 The Balloonist!. 
 
 The Powers of the Human Eye. 
 
 The Crab-Boy and His Elephant. 
 
 The Old Man of Moriches. 
 
 The Bald-headed Man. 
 
 The Mule and the Crackers. 
 The Influence of Kindness. 
 Bobby and the Little Green Apples. 
 The Awful Comet, 
 The Tug of War. 
 The Ironical Flamingo, 
 ifc. (sfc. Syc. 
 
 Standard, — " This is a book which will please equally people of all ages. 
 The illustrations are not only extremely funny, but they are drawn with wonder, 
 ful artistic ability, and are full of life and action. 
 
 " It is far and away the best book of ' Stuff and Nonsense ' which has ap- 
 peared for a long time." 
 
 Press. — "The most facetious bit of wit that has been penned for many a 
 day, both in design and text, is Mr. A. B. Frost's 'Stuff and Nonsense.' 'A 
 Tale of a Cat 'is funny, 'The Balloonists'is perhaps rather extravagant, but 
 nothing can outdo the wit of 'The Powers of the Human Eye,' whilst 'Ye 
 /Esthete, ye Boy, and ye Bullfrog' may be described as a 'roarer.' Mr. Frost's 
 pen and pencil know how to chronicle fun, and their outcomes should not be 
 overlooked." 
 
 Graphic. — " Grotesque in the extreme. His jokes will rouse many a laugh. " 
 
 14. King William Street, Strand, London, W. C. 
 
Publications of John C. Nimtno. 
 
 IMAGINARY CONVERSATIONS. 
 
 By WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR. 
 
 In Five Vols, crown 8vo, cloth, 30s. 
 
 First Series — Classical Dialogues, Greek and Roman. 
 Second Series — Dialogues of Sovereigns and Statesmen. 
 Third Series — Dialogues of Literary Men. 
 Fourth Series — Dialogues of Famous Women. 
 Fifth Series — Miscellaneous Dialogues. 
 
 Note. — This Neva Edition is printed from the last Edition of his Works, 
 revised and edited by John Forster, and is published by arrangement with 
 the Proprietors of the Copyright of Walter Savage Lander's Works. 
 
 The Times. 
 " The abiding character of the interest excited by the writings of Walter 
 Savage Lander, and the existence of a numerous band of votaries at the shrine 
 of his refined genius, have been lately evidenced by the appearance of the most 
 remarkable of Landor's productions, his ' Imaginary Conversations,' taken from 
 the last edition of his works. To have them in a separate publication will be 
 convenient to a great number of readeis." 
 
 The Athenseum. 
 
 "The appearance of this tasteful reprint would seem to indicate that the 
 present generation is at last waking up to the fact that it has neglected a great 
 writer, and if so, it is well to begin with Landor's most adequate work. It 
 is difficult to overpraise the ' Imaginary Conversations.' The eulogiums 
 bestowed on the 'Conversations' by Emerson will, it is to be hoped, lead 
 many to buy this book." 
 
 Scotsman. 
 
 " An excellent service has been done to the reading public by presenting to 
 it, in five compact volumes, these ' Conversations.' Admirably prinfed on good 
 paper, the volumes are handy in shape, and indeed the edition is all that could 
 be desired. When this has been said, it will t)e understood what a boon has 
 been conferred on the reading public ; and it should enable many compara- 
 tively poor men to enrich their libraries with a work that will have an enduring 
 interest." 
 
 BOOK-CORNER PROTECTORS. 
 
 Metal Tips carefully prepared for placing on the Corners of Books 
 to preserve them from injury while passing through the Post Office or 
 being sent by Carrier. 
 
 Extract from " The Times," April 18th. 
 
 "That the publishers and booksellers second the efforts of the Post Ofiici 
 authorities in endeavouring to convey books without damage happening to 
 them is evident from the tips which they use to protect the corners from 
 injury during transit." 
 
 Is. 6d. per Gross, net. 
 
 14 King William Street, Strand, London, U'.C. 
 
Publications of John C Nimmo. 
 
 23 
 
 The American Patent Portable Book-Case. 
 
 For Students, Barristers, Home Libraries, &c. 
 
 This Book-case will be found to be made of very solid and durable mate- 
 rial, and of a neat and elegant design. The shelves may be adjusted for 
 books of any size, and will hold from 150 to 300 volumes. As it requires 
 neither nails, screws, or glue, it may be taken to pieces in a few minutes, 
 and reset up in another room or house, where it would be inconvenient to 
 carry a large frame. 
 
 FullHHght, %fl, llj in.; Width, %ft, 8 inch; Depth of Shelf ^ loj in. 
 
 Black Walnut, price £6, 6s. net. 
 
 " The accompanying sketch illustrates a handy portable book-case of American 
 manufiacture, which Mr. Nimmo has provided. It is quite different from an ordinary 
 article of famiture, such as upholsterers Indict upon the public, as it is designed expressly 
 for holding the largest possible number of books in the smallest possible amount of space. 
 One of the chief advantages which these book-cases possess is the ea^e with which they 
 may be taken apart and put together again. No nails or metal screws are employed^ 
 nothing but the hand is required to dismantle or reconstruct the case. The parts fit 
 together with mathematical precision ; and, from a package of boards of very moderate 
 dimensions, a firm and substantial book-case can be erected in the space of a few 
 minutes. Appearances have by no means been overlooked ; the panelled sides, bevelled 
 edges, ^id other simple omam'-nts, give to the cases a very neat and tasteful look. For 
 students, or others whose occupation may involve frequent change of residence, these 
 book-cases will be found most handy and desirable, while, at the same time, they arei 
 so substantial, well-made, and convenient, that they will be found equally suitable for 
 the library at home." 
 
 14 King William Street^ Strand^ LoTidon^ W. C, 
 
V