The second set of madrigales to 3. 4. 5. and 6. Parts: Apt for Viols and Voyces. Newly composed by Thomas Bateson |
The second set of madrigales | ||
Songs of 3. Voyces
[I. Love is the fire that burnes me]
Loue is the fire that burnes meLoue is the fire that burnes me, The smokes are thoughts confused, Which dimmes my soule, my soule, And hath my sence abused, Though fire to ashes turne me, Yet doth the smoke more grieue mee, That dimmes my minde, Whose light should still relieue me. Though fire to ashes turne me, Yet doth the smoke more grieue me, That dims my minde, whose light should still relieue me.
[II. My Mistrisse after seruice due]
My Mistrisse after seruice dueMy Mistrisse after seruice due, Demaunded if indeed my loue were true, I said it was, Then shee replide, That I must hate who she defide, And so my selfe, aboue the rest, Whom she, (she swore) did most of all detest, In sooth said I, you see I hate my selfe, Who sets my loue on such a peeuish elfe. In sooth said I, you see I hate my selfe, who sets my loue on such a peeuish elfe.
[III. One woman scarce of twenty]
One woman scarce of twentyOne woman scarce of twenty. But hath of teares great plenty, Which they powre out like fountaines, That runne downe from the mountaines, Yet all is but beguiling, Their teares and eke their smiling, Ile therefore neuer trust them, Since nature hath so curst them, That they can weepe in smiling, Poore fooles thereby beguiling Ile therefore neuer trust them, Since nature hath so curst them, That they can weepe in smiling, Poore fooles thereby beguiling.
[IIII. If I seeke to inioy]
If I seeke to inioy, the fruits of my paineIf I seeke to inioy, the fruits of my paine, She careles denyes me, with endles disdaine, Yet so much I loue her, that nothing can either remoue me, or moue her, Alas, why contend I, why striue I in vaine? in vaine, The water to mingle With Oyle that is Ayre, and loues to be single, Tis not loue but Fate whose doome I abide, You pow'rs and you plannets, which Destenies guide, Change your Opposition, It fits heau'nly powers to be milde of Condition. Change your Opposition, It fits heau'nly powers to be milde of Condition.
[V. Pleasure]
Pleasure, is a wanton thingPleasure, is a wanton thing, When old and young doe dance and spring, Pleasure, is a wanton thing, When old and young, doe dance and spring, Pleasure it is that most desire, And yet tis but a fooles hire. Pleasure it is that most desire, And yet tis but a fooles hire.
[VI. Sweet those Trammels of your haire]
Sweet, those Trammels of your haireSweet, those Trammels of your haire, Golden locks more truely are, My thoughts locking to your beautie, Thus you doe, my captiue minde, From my dying body binde, Onely to you, to doe duty. O my deere let it goe free, Or my body take to thee, So your Captiues you shall cherish, For if parted thus they lye, Or my thoughts or I must dye, T'will grieue thee, if either perish,
The second set of madrigales | ||