 |
 | The First Part of Ayres, French, Pollish, and others together, some in Tabliture, and some in Pricke-Song. With Pauines, Galliards, and Almaines for the Viole De Gambo alone, and other Musicall Conceites for two Base Viols, expressing fiue partes, with pleasant reportes one from the other, and for two Leero Viols, and also for the Leero Viole with two Treble Viols, or two with one Treble. Lastly for the Leero Viole to play alone, and some Songes to bee sung to the Viole, with the Lute, or better with the Viole alone. Also an Inuention for two to play vpon one Viole |  |
The Souldiers Song.
I sing the praise of honor'd warsI sing the praise of honor'd wars, the glory of wel gotte skars, the brauery of glittring shields, of lusty harts & famous fields: for that is Musicke worth the eare of Ioue, a sight for kings, & stil the Soldiers loue: Look, ô me thinks I see the grace of chiualry, the colours are displaid, the captaines bright araid: see now the battels rang'd bullets now thick are chang'd: Harke, harke, shootes and wounds abound,
Tobacco
Tobacco, Tobacco
Sing sweetly for Tobacco,
Tobacco is like loue,
O loue it
For you see I wil proue it
Sing sweetly for Tobacco,
Tobacco is like loue,
O loue it
For you see I wil proue it
Loue maketh leane the fatte mens tumor,
So doth Tobacco,
Loue still dries vppe the wanton humor
So doth Tobacco,
Loue makes mē sayle frō shore to shore
So doth Tobacco
Tis fond loue often makes men poor
to doth Tobacco,
Loue makes men scorne a Coward feare,
To doth Tobacco
Loue often sets men by the eares
So doth Tobacco
So doth Tobacco,
Loue still dries vppe the wanton humor
So doth Tobacco,
Loue makes mē sayle frō shore to shore
So doth Tobacco
Tis fond loue often makes men poor
to doth Tobacco,
Loue makes men scorne a Coward feare,
To doth Tobacco
Loue often sets men by the eares
So doth Tobacco
Tobaccoe, Tobaccoe
Sing sweetely for Tobaccoe,
Tobaccoe is like Loue,
O loue it,
For you see I haue prowde it.
Sing sweetely for Tobaccoe,
Tobaccoe is like Loue,
O loue it,
For you see I haue prowde it.
Fain would I change that note
Fain would I chāge that note
To which sōd loue hath charmd me,
Long, long to sing by roate,
Fancying that that harmde me
Yet when this thought doth come
Loue is the perfect summe
Of all delight
I haue no other choice
Either for pen or voyce,
To sing or write.
To which sōd loue hath charmd me,
Long, long to sing by roate,
Fancying that that harmde me
Yet when this thought doth come
Loue is the perfect summe
Of all delight
I haue no other choice
Either for pen or voyce,
To sing or write.
[_]
You must play one straine with your fingers, the other with your Bow, and so continue to the end.
O Loue they wrong thee much,
That say thy sweete is bitter.
When thy ripe fruit is such,
As nothing can be sweeter,
Faire house of ioy and blisse,
Where truest pleasure is,
I doe adore thee:
I know thee what thou art,
I serue thee with my hart,
And fall before thee.
That say thy sweete is bitter.
When thy ripe fruit is such,
As nothing can be sweeter,
Faire house of ioy and blisse,
Where truest pleasure is,
I doe adore thee:
I know thee what thou art,
I serue thee with my hart,
And fall before thee.
Finis.
T. H.
What greater griefe
What greater griefe then no reliefe in deepest woe
Death is no friend that will not end such harts sorrow
Helpe I do crie, no helpe is nie, but winde and ayre
Which to and fro do tosse & blow all to dispayre
Sith then dispaire I must yet may not dye no man
Vnhapier liues on earth then I.
Death is no friend that will not end such harts sorrow
Helpe I do crie, no helpe is nie, but winde and ayre
Which to and fro do tosse & blow all to dispayre
Sith then dispaire I must yet may not dye no man
Vnhapier liues on earth then I.
Tis I that feele the scornfull heele of dismall hate,
My gaine is lost, my losse deere cost repentance late
So I must mone be monde of none O bitter gal,
Death be my friend with speed to end and quiet all
But if thou linger in dispaire to leaue me,
Ile kill dispaire with hope and so deceiue thee
My gaine is lost, my losse deere cost repentance late
So I must mone be monde of none O bitter gal,
Death be my friend with speed to end and quiet all
But if thou linger in dispaire to leaue me,
Ile kill dispaire with hope and so deceiue thee
Alas poore men
[_]
The Imitation of Church Musicke, singing to the Organes, but here you must vse the Viole de Gambo for the Organe, playing the burthen strongly with the Bow, singing lowde, your Preludiums and verses are to be plaide with your fingers, singing thereto not ouer lowde, your Bow euer in your hand.
To haue more time & space to suffer wrong, O wrong
Our birth is blind and creeping,
Our life all woe and weeping
Our death all paine and terror
Birth, life, death, what all but error,
Alas poore men
O world nurse of desires,
Fostresse of vaine attires
What reasō canst thou render
Why man should hold thee tender.
Alas poore men
Muses and Souldier, that refuses
No woundes for countries safetie,
He onely thriues thats craftie.
Alas poore men
On crutches vertue halts
Whilest men most great in faultes,
Suffers best worth distrest
With emptie pride opprest opprest.
Alas poore men.
Rouze thy diuiner strēgth
& make no musicke more
Our sadde state thats deplore
Then las poore men why
Finis huius libri.
| The First Part of Ayres, French, Pollish, and others together, some in Tabliture, and some in Pricke-Song. With Pauines, Galliards, and Almaines for the Viole De Gambo alone, and other Musicall Conceites for two Base Viols, expressing fiue partes, with pleasant reportes one from the other, and for two Leero Viols, and also for the Leero Viole with two Treble Viols, or two with one Treble. Lastly for the Leero Viole to play alone, and some Songes to bee sung to the Viole, with the Lute, or better with the Viole alone. Also an Inuention for two to play vpon one Viole | |