The Second Booke of Songs or Ayres of 2. 4. and 5. parts: With Tableture for the Lute or Orpherian, with the Violl de Gamba. Composed by Iohn Dovvland ... Also an excelent lesson for the Lute and Base Viol, called Dowlands adew [by John Dowland] |
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| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IIII. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
| XIIII. |
| XV. |
| XVI. |
| XVII. |
| XVIII. |
| XIX. |
| XX. |
| XXI. |
| XXII. |
 | The Second Booke of Songs or Ayres |  |
To the right Noble and Vertuous Ladie, Lucie Comptesse of BEDFORD.
G. Eastland. To I. Dowlands Lute.
Vntill a thousand formes shee beare,
Coniure them all that they repaire,
Into the circles of hir eare,
Euer to dwell in concord there,
Euen to hir spirit whose flowring treasure,
Doth sweetest Harmonie expresse,
Filling all eares and hearts with pleasure
On earth, obseruing heauenly measure,
Right well can shee Iudge and defend them,
Doubt not of that for shee can mend them.
I.
[I Saw my Lady weepe]
I Saw my Lady weepe, And sorrow proud to bee aduanced so: In those faire eies, where all perfections keepe, Hir face was full of woe, full of woe, but such a woe, beleeue me as wins more hearts, Then mirth can doe, with hir, in tysing parts.
Sorow was there made faire, And passion wise, eares a delightfull thing, Silence beyond all speech a wisdome rare, Shee made hir sighes to sing, And all things with so sweet a sadnesse moue, As made my heart at once both grieue and loue.
O fayrer then ought ells, The world can shew, leaue of in time to grieue, Inough, inough, your ioyfull lookes excells, Teares kills the heart belieue, O striue not to bee excellent in woe, Which onely breeds your beauties ouerthrow.
II. Flow my teares fall from your springs
Flow my teares fall from your springsFlow my teares fall from your springs, Exilde for euer: Let mee morne where nights black bird hir sad infamy sings, there let mee liue forlorne. Downe vainelights shine you no more, No nights are duk enough for those that in dispaire their Last fortuns deplore, light doth but shame disclose. Neuer may my woes be relieued, since pittie is fled, and teares, and sighes, and grones my wearie dayes, of all ioyes haue depriued. Frō the highest spire of contentment, my fortune is throwne, and feare, and griefe, and paine for my deserts, are my hopes since hope is gone. Harke you shadowes that in darcknesse dwell, learne to contemne light, Happie, happie they
III. Sorrow sorrow stay, lend true repentant teares
Sorrow sorrow stay, lend true repentant tearesSorrow sorrow stay, lend true repentant teares, to a woefull, wretched wight, hence, dispaire with thy tormenting feares: doe not, O doe not my heart poore heart affright, pitty, help now or neuer, mark me not to endlesse paine, alas I am cōdempne'd, I am condempned euer, no hope, no help, ther doth remaine, but downe, down, down, down I fall, downe
IIII. Dye not beefore thy day
Dye not beefore thy dayDye not beefore thy day, poore poore man condemned, But lift thy low lookes, from the humble earth, Kisse not dispaire & see sweet hope contemned: The hag hath no delight, but mone but mone for mirth, O fye poore fondling, fie fie be willing, to preserue thy self from killing: Hope thy keeper glad to free thee, Bids thee goe and will not see thee,
V Mourne, mourne, day is with darknesse fled
Mourne, mourne, day is with darknesse fledMourne, mourne, day is with darknesse fled, what heauen then gouernes earth, ô none, but hell in heauens stead, choaks with his mistes our mirth. Mourne mourne, looke now for no more day nor night, but that from hell, Then all must as they may in darkenesse learne to dwell. But yet this change, must needes change our delight, that thus the Sunne, the Sun should harbour with the night.
VI. Times eldest sonne, olde age the heyre of ease
Times eldest sonneTimes eldest sonne, olde age the heyre of ease, Strēgths foe, loues woe, and foster to deuotion, bids gallant youths in marshall prowes please, as for himselfe, hee hath no earthly motion, But thinks sighes, teares, vowes, praiers, and sacrifices, As good as showes, maskes, iustes, or tilt deuises.
VII. Second part. Then sit thee downe, and say thy Nunc Demittis
Then sit thee downe, and say thy Nunc DemittisThen sit thee downe, and say thy Nunc Demittis, with De profundis, Credo, and Te Deum, Chant Miserere for what now so fit is, as that, or this, Paratum est cor meum, O that thy Saint would take in worth thy hart, thou canst not please hir with a better part.
VIII. Third part. When others sings Venite exultemus
When others sings Venite exultemusWhen others sings Venite exultemus, stand by and turne to Noli emulari, For quare fremuerunt vse oremus Viuat Eliza, Viuat Eliza, For an aue mari, and teach those swains that liues about thy cell, to say Amen Amen when thou dost pray so well.
IX.
[Praise blindnesse eies, for seeing is deceit]
Bee dumbe vaine tongue, words are but flattering windes,
Breake hart & bleed for ther is no receit,
To purge inconstancy from most mens mindes.
Lenuoy:
And so I wackt amazd and could not moue,I know my dreame was true, and yet I loue.
Conuey into thy head hopes to obtaine,
Then tell thy hearing thou art deafe by art,
Now loue is art that wonted to be plaine,
Now none is bald except they see his braines,
Affection is not knowne till one be dead,
Reward for loue are labours for his paines,
Loues quiuer made of gold his shafts of leade.
X.
[O sweet woods the delight of solitarinesse]
O how much doe I loue your solitarinesse.
In these sad groues an Hermits life I led,
And those false pleasures which I once admir'd,
With sad remembrance of my fall, I dread,
To birds, to trees, to earth, impart I this,
For shee lesse secret, and as sencelesse is.
Doth bid mee now my hart from loue estrange,
Loue is disdained when it doth looke at Kings,
And loue loe placed base and apt to change:
Ther power doth take from him his liberty,
Hir want of worth makes him in cradell die.
O how much, &c.
And seeke that which you neuer shall obtaine,
The endlesse worke of Sisiphus you procure,
Whose end is this to know you striue in vaine,
Hope and desire which now your Idols bee,
You needs must loose and feele dispaire with mee.
O how much, &c.
Nimphes at whose sight all harts did yeeld to Loue,
You woods in whom deere louers oft haue talked,
How doe you now a place of mourning proue,
Wansted my Mistres saith this is the doome,
Thou art loues Childbed, Nursery, and Tombe.
O how much, &c.
XI.
[If fluds of teares could cleanse my follies past]
And smoakes of sighes might sacrifice for sinne,
If groning cries might salue my fault at last,
Or endles mone, for error pardon win,
Then would I cry, weepe, sigh, and euer mone,
Mine errors, fault, sins, follies past and gone.
I see my fauours are no lasting flowers,
I see that woords will breede no better good,
Then losse of time and lightening but at houres,
Thus when I see then thus I say therefore,
That fauours hopes and words, can blinde no more.
XII.
[Fine knacks for ladies, cheape choise braue and new]
Good penniworths but mony cannot moue,
I keepe a faier but for the faier to view,
A begger may bee liberall of loue,
Though all my wares bee trash the hart is true,
The hart is true,
The hart is true.
My trifles come, as treasures from my minde,
It is a precious Iewell to bee plaine,
Sometimes in shell th'orienst pearles we finde,
Of others take a sheafe, of mee a graine,
Of mee a graine,
Of mee a graine.
And diuers toies fitting a country faier,
But my hart where duety serues and loues,
Turtels & twins, courts brood, a heauenly paier,
Happy the hart that thincks of no remoues,
Of no remoues,
Of no remoues.
XIII.
[Now cease my wandring eies]
Strange beauties to admire,
In change least comfort lies,
Long ioyes yeeld long desire.
One faith one loue,
Makes our fraile pleasures eternall
And in sweetnesse proue.
New ioyes, are still with sorrow declining, unto deep anoies.
Which art cannot deuide,
If all one soule must loue,
Two loues most be denide,
One soule one loue,
By faith and merit vnited cannot remoue,
Distracted spirits,
Are euer changing & haplesse in their delights.
All beautie to impart,
Aswell in earth as heauen,
But she hath giuen one hart,
That though wee see,
Ten thousand beauties yet in vs one should be,
One stedfast loue,
Because our harts stand fixt although our eies do moue.
XIIII.
[Come yee heauy states of night]
Doe my fathers spirit right,
Soundings balefull let mee borrow,
Burthening my song with sorrow,
Come sorrow come hir eis that sings,
By thee are turned into springs.
That in Dirges sad delight,
Quier my Anthems, I doe borrow
Gold not pearle, but sounds of sorrow:
Come sorrow come hir eies that sings,
By thee are tourned into springs.
XV.
[White as Lillies was hir face]
[1]
White as Lillies was hir face,When she smiled,
She beeguiled,
Quitting faith with foule disgrace,
Vertue seruice thus neglected,
Heart with sorrowes hath infected.
2
When I swore my hart hir owne,Shee disdained,
I complained,
Yet shee left mee ouerthrowen,
Careles of my bitter groning,
Ruthlesse bent to no relieuing.
3
Vowes and oaths and faith assured,Constant euer,
Changing neuer,
Yet shee could not bee procured,
To beleeue my paines exceeding,
From hir scant neglect proceeding.
4
Oh that Loue should haue the art,By surmises,
And disguises,
To destroy a faithfull hart,
Or that wanton looking women,
Should reward their friends as foemen.
5
All in vaine is Ladies loue,Quickly choosed,
Shortly loosed,
For their pride is to remoue,
Out alas their looks first won vs,
And their pride hath straight vndone vs.
6
To thy selfe the sweetest faier,Thou hast wounded,
And confounded,
Changles faith with foule dispaier,
And my seruice hath enuied,
And my succours hath denied.
7
By thine error thou hast lost,Hart vnfained,
Truth vnstained,
And the swaine that loued most,
More assured in loue then many,
More dispised in loue then any,
8
For my hart though set at nought,Since you will it,
Spoile and kill it,
I will neuer change my thoughts,
But grieue that beautie ete was borne.
XVI.
[Wofull hart with griefe oppressed]
Since my fortunes most distressed,
From my ioyes hath mee remoued,
Follow those sweet eies adored,
Those sweet eyes wherein are stored,
All my pleasures best beeloued.
Wherein Griefe his seate hath taken,
All his arrowes through mee darting,
Thou maist liue by hir Sunne-shining,
I shall suffer no more pining,
By thy losse, then by hir parting.
XVII.
[A shepheard in a shade, his plaining made]
Of loue and louers wrong,
Vnto the fairest lasse, That trode on grasse,
And thus beegan his song.
Restore, restore my hart againe,
Which loue by thy sweet lookes hath slaine,
Least that inforst by your disdaine, I sing,
Fye fye on loue, it is a foolish thing.
Your faire and louely eye,
What conquest will it bee, Sweet Nimph for thee,
If I, for sorrow dye.
Restore, restore my hart againe,
Which loue by thy sweet lookes hath slaine,
Least that inforst by your disdaine, I sing,
Fye fye on loue, it is a foolish thing.
To kill when you might saue,
Why haue yee cast it sorth as nothing worth,
Without a tombe or graue.
O let it bee intombed and lye,
In your sweet minde and memorie,
Least I resound on euery warbling string,
Fye fye on loue that is a foolish thing.
XVIII.
[Faction that euer dwels]
In court where wits excells,
Hath set defiance,
Fortune and loue hath sworne,
That they were neuer borne,
Of one aliance.
1
Fortune sweares, weakest hartsThe bookes of Cupids arts
Turne with hir wheele,
Sences themselues shall proue
Venture hir place in loue
Aske them that feele.
2
This discord it begetA theist that honour not
Nature thought good,
Fortune should euer dwell
In court where wits excell
Loue keepe the vvood.
3
So to the wood vvent IWith loue to liue and die
Fortune forlorne,
Experience of my youth
Made mee thinke humble truth
In desert borne.
4
My saint is deere to mee,And lone hir selfe is shee
Ione faier and true,
Ione that doth euer moue,
Passions of loue with loue
Fortune adiew.
XIX.
[Shall I sue shall I seeke for grace?]
[1]
Shall I sue shall I seeke for grace?Shall I pray shall I proue?
Shall I striue to a heauenly Ioy,
With an earthly loue?
Shall I think that a bleeding hart
Or a wounded eie,
Or a sigh can ascend the cloudes
To attaine so hie.
2
Silly wretch forsake these dreames,of a vaine desire,
O bethinke what hie regard,
holy hopes doe require.
Fauour is as faire as things are,
treasure is not bought,
Fauour is not wonne with words,
nor the wish of a thought.
3
Pittie is but a poore defence,for a dying hart,
Ladies eies respect no mone,
in a meane desert.
Shee is to worthie far,
for a worth so base,
Cruell and but iust is shee,
in my iust disgrace.
4
Iustice giues each man his owne,though my loue bee iust,
Yet will not shee pittie my griefe,
therefore die I must,
Silly hart then yeeld to die,
perish in dispaire,
Witnesse yet how faine I die,
When I die for the faire.
XX.
[Tosse not my soule, O loue twixt hope and feare]
Shew mee some ground where I may firmely stand
Or surely fall, I care not which apeare,
So one will close mee in a certaine band.
Lenuoy:
When once of ill the vttermost is knowen,The strength of sorrow quite is ouer throwne.
Or thou Despaire vnto thy darkest Cell,
Each hath full rest, the one in ioyes enrolde,
Th'other, in that hee feares no more, is well:
The strength of sorrow quite is ouerthrowne.
XXI.
[Cleare or cloudie sweet as Aprill showring, ]
Smoth or frowning So is hir face to mee,
Pleasd or smiling like milde May all flowring,
When skies blew silke and medowes carpets bee,
Hir speeches notes of that night bird that singeth,
Who thought all sweet yet larring notes outringeth.
In best attire of compleat beauties height,
Hir loue againe like sommers daies bee dimde,
With little cloudes of doubtfull constant faith,
Hir trust hir doubt, like raine and heat in Skies,
Gently thundring, she lightning to mine eies.
In weedes as into hearbs and flowers,
And sees of seruice diuers sorts in sowing,
Some haply seeming and some being yours,
Raine on your hearbs and flowers that truely serue,
And let your weeds lack dew and duely sterue.
XXII. [Humor say what mak'st thou heere]
A Dialogue.
Hvmor say what mak'st thou heereHvmor say what mak'st thou heere, In the presence of a Queene, Thou art a heauy leaden moode
But neuer Humor yet was true, but that but that but that that that that that that that which onely onely pleaseth you.
1O, I am as heauy as earth, Say then who is Humor now.
1
Why then tis I am drownde in woe, But neuer Humor, &c.
1
Mirth then is drownde in sorrowes brim, Oh, in sorrow all things sleepe.
1
In hir presence all things smile, Humor frolike then a while. But neuer Humor, &c.
| The Second Booke of Songs or Ayres | |