The firste booke of Songes or Ayres of fowre partes with Tableture for the Lute So made that all the partes together, or either of them seuerally may be song to the Lute, Orpherian or Viol de gambo. Composed by John Dowland ... Also an inuention by the sayd Author for two to playe vpon one Lute |
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| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IIII. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. | X. Thinkst thou then by thy fayning |
| XI. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
| XIIII. |
| XV. |
| XVI. |
| XVII. |
| XVIII. |
| XIX. |
| XX. |
| XXI. |
 | The firste booke of Songes or Ayres of fowre partes with Tableture for the Lute |  |
X. Thinkst thou then by thy fayning
Thinkst thou then by thy fayning,
Sleepe with a proude disdaining,
Or with thy craftie closing,
Thy cruell eyes reposing,
To driue me from thy sight,
When sleepe yeelds more delight,
Such harmles beauty gracing.
And while sleepe fayned is,
May not I steale a kisse,
Thy quiet armes embracing.
Sleepe with a proude disdaining,
Or with thy craftie closing,
Thy cruell eyes reposing,
To driue me from thy sight,
When sleepe yeelds more delight,
Such harmles beauty gracing.
And while sleepe fayned is,
May not I steale a kisse,
Thy quiet armes embracing.
O that thy sleepe dissembled,
Were to a trance resembled,
Thy cruell eies deceiuing,
Of liuely sence bereauing:
Then should my loue requite
Thy loues vnkind despite,
While fury triumpht bouldly
In beauties sweet disgrace:
And liu'd in deepe embrace:
Of her that lou'de so couldly.
Were to a trance resembled,
Thy cruell eies deceiuing,
Of liuely sence bereauing:
Then should my loue requite
Thy loues vnkind despite,
While fury triumpht bouldly
In beauties sweet disgrace:
And liu'd in deepe embrace:
Of her that lou'de so couldly.
Should then my loue aspiring,
Forbidden ioyes desiring:
So farre exceede the duty
That vertue owes to beauty?
No, Loue seeke not thy blisse,
Beyond a simple kisse,
For such deceits are harmeles,
Yet kisse a thousand fould,
For kisses may be bould
When louely sleepe is armlesse.
Forbidden ioyes desiring:
So farre exceede the duty
That vertue owes to beauty?
No, Loue seeke not thy blisse,
Beyond a simple kisse,
For such deceits are harmeles,
Yet kisse a thousand fould,
For kisses may be bould
When louely sleepe is armlesse.
| The firste booke of Songes or Ayres of fowre partes with Tableture for the Lute | |