The Works of Thomas Campion Complete Songs, Masques, and Treatises with a Selection of the Latin Verse: Edited with an introduction and notes by Walter R. Davis |
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| A BOOKE OF AYRES, PART II |
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
| XIV. |
| XV. |
| XVI. |
| XVII. |
| XVIII. |
| XIX. |
| XX. |
| XXI. |
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 | The Works of Thomas Campion |  |
449
A BOOKE OF AYRES, PART II
450
I.
[Sweete, come againe]
Sweete, come againe;
Your happie sight, so much desir'd,
Since you from hence are now retir'd,
I seeke in vaine.
Stil must I mourn
And pine in longing paine,
Till you, my lives delight, againe
Vouchsafe your wisht returne.
Your happie sight, so much desir'd,
Since you from hence are now retir'd,
I seeke in vaine.
Stil must I mourn
And pine in longing paine,
Till you, my lives delight, againe
Vouchsafe your wisht returne.
If true desire,
Or faithfull vow of endles love,
Thy heart enflam'd may kindly move
With equall fire;
O then my joies,
So long destraught, shall rest,
Reposed soft in thy chast brest,
Exempt from all annoies.
Or faithfull vow of endles love,
Thy heart enflam'd may kindly move
With equall fire;
O then my joies,
So long destraught, shall rest,
Reposed soft in thy chast brest,
Exempt from all annoies.
You had the power
My wandring thoughts first to restraine,
You first did heare my love speake plaine,
A child before:
Now it is growne
Confirm'd, do you it keepe,
And let it safe in your bosome sleepe,
There ever made your owne.
My wandring thoughts first to restraine,
You first did heare my love speake plaine,
A child before:
Now it is growne
Confirm'd, do you it keepe,
And let it safe in your bosome sleepe,
There ever made your owne.
And till we meete,
Teach absence inward art to find,
Both to disturbe and please the mind.
Such thoughts are sweete,
And such remaine
In hearts whose flames are true;
Then such will I retaine, till you
To me returne againe.
Teach absence inward art to find,
Both to disturbe and please the mind.
Such thoughts are sweete,
And such remaine
In hearts whose flames are true;
Then such will I retaine, till you
To me returne againe.
451
II.
[And would you see my Mistris face?]
And would you see my Mistris face?
it is a flowrie garden place,
Where knots of beauties have such grace
that all is worke and nowhere space.
it is a flowrie garden place,
Where knots of beauties have such grace
that all is worke and nowhere space.
It is a sweete delicious morne,
where day is breeding, never borne,
It is a Meadow yet unshorne,
whome thousand flowers do adorne.
where day is breeding, never borne,
It is a Meadow yet unshorne,
whome thousand flowers do adorne.
It is the heavens bright reflexe,
weake eies to dazle and to vexe,
It is th'Idaea of her sexe,
envie of whome doth world perplexe.
weake eies to dazle and to vexe,
It is th'Idaea of her sexe,
envie of whome doth world perplexe.
It is a face of death that smiles,
pleasing, though it killes the whiles,
Where death and love in pretie wiles
each other mutuallie beguiles.
pleasing, though it killes the whiles,
Where death and love in pretie wiles
each other mutuallie beguiles.
It is faire beauties freshest youth,
it is the fain'd Eliziums truth:
The spring that winter'd harts renu'th;
and this is that my soule pursu'th.
it is the fain'd Eliziums truth:
The spring that winter'd harts renu'th;
and this is that my soule pursu'th.
III.
[No grave for woe, yet earth my watrie teares devoures]
No grave for woe, yet earth my watrie teares devoures;
Sighes want ayre, and burnt desires kind pitties showres:
Stars hold their fatal course, my joies preventing:
The earth, the sea, the aire, the fire, the heav'ns vow my tormenting.
Sighes want ayre, and burnt desires kind pitties showres:
Stars hold their fatal course, my joies preventing:
The earth, the sea, the aire, the fire, the heav'ns vow my tormenting.
452
Yet still I live, and waste my wearie daies in grones,
And with wofull tunes adorne dispayring mones.
Night still prepares a more displeasing morrow;
My day is night, my life my death, and all but sence of sorrow.
And with wofull tunes adorne dispayring mones.
Night still prepares a more displeasing morrow;
My day is night, my life my death, and all but sence of sorrow.
IV.
[If I urge my kinde desires]
If I urge my kinde desires,
She unkind doth them reject;
Womens hearts are painted fires
To deceive them that affect.
I alone loves fires include,
Shee alone doth them delude.
She unkind doth them reject;
Womens hearts are painted fires
To deceive them that affect.
I alone loves fires include,
Shee alone doth them delude.
Shee hath often vow'd her love,
But, alas, no fruit I finde.
That her fires are false I prove,
Yet in her no fault I finde:
I was thus unhappy borne,
And ordain'd to be her scorne.
But, alas, no fruit I finde.
That her fires are false I prove,
Yet in her no fault I finde:
I was thus unhappy borne,
And ordain'd to be her scorne.
Yet if humane care, or paine,
May the heav'nly order change,
She will hate her owne disdaine,
And repent she was so strange:
For a truer heart then I
Never liv'd, or lov'd to die.
May the heav'nly order change,
She will hate her owne disdaine,
And repent she was so strange:
For a truer heart then I
Never liv'd, or lov'd to die.
V.
[What harts content can he finde]
What harts content can he finde,
What happy sleepes can his eies embrace,
That beares a guiltie minde?
His tast sweet wines wil abhorre:
No musicks sounde can appease the thoughts
That wicked deeds deplore.
The passion of a present feare
Stil makes his restles motion there;
And all the day hee dreads the night,
And all the night, as one agast, hee feares the morning light
What happy sleepes can his eies embrace,
That beares a guiltie minde?
His tast sweet wines wil abhorre:
No musicks sounde can appease the thoughts
That wicked deeds deplore.
The passion of a present feare
Stil makes his restles motion there;
And all the day hee dreads the night,
And all the night, as one agast, hee feares the morning light
453
But he that loves to be lov'd,
And in his deedes doth adore heavens power,
And is with pitie mov'd;
The night gives rest to his heart,
The cheerefull beames do awake his soule,
Revived in everie part.
He lives a comfort to his friendes,
And heaven to him such blessing sendes
That feare of hell cannot dismaie
His stedfast hart that is enurd the truth still to obey
And in his deedes doth adore heavens power,
And is with pitie mov'd;
The night gives rest to his heart,
The cheerefull beames do awake his soule,
Revived in everie part.
He lives a comfort to his friendes,
And heaven to him such blessing sendes
That feare of hell cannot dismaie
His stedfast hart that is enurd the truth still to obey
VI.
[Let him that will be free and keep his hart from care]
Let him that will be free and keep his hart from care,
Retir'd alone, remaine where no discomforts are.
For when the eie doth view his griefe, or haplesse eare his sorrow heares,
Th'impression still in him abides, and ever in one shape appeares.
Retir'd alone, remaine where no discomforts are.
For when the eie doth view his griefe, or haplesse eare his sorrow heares,
Th'impression still in him abides, and ever in one shape appeares.
Forget thy griefes betimes; long sorrow breedes long paine,
For joie, farre fled from men, will not returne againe;
O happie is the soule which heaven ordained to live in endles peace:
His life is a pleasing dreame, and everie houre his joyes encrease.
For joie, farre fled from men, will not returne againe;
O happie is the soule which heaven ordained to live in endles peace:
His life is a pleasing dreame, and everie houre his joyes encrease.
You heavie sprites, that love in sever'd shades to dwell,
That nurse despaire, and dreame of unrelenting hell,
Come sing this happie song, and learne of me the Arte of true content,
Loade not your guiltie soules with wrong, and heaven then will soone relent.
That nurse despaire, and dreame of unrelenting hell,
Come sing this happie song, and learne of me the Arte of true content,
Loade not your guiltie soules with wrong, and heaven then will soone relent.
VII.
[Reprove not love, though fondly thou hast lost]
Reprove not love, though fondly thou hast lost
Greater hopes by loving:
Love calms ambicious spirits, from their brests
Danger oft removing:
Let lofty humors mount up on high,
Down againe like to the wind,
While privat thoughts, vow'd to love,
More peace and pleasure find.
Greater hopes by loving:
Love calms ambicious spirits, from their brests
Danger oft removing:
Let lofty humors mount up on high,
Down againe like to the wind,
454
More peace and pleasure find.
Love and sweete beautie makes the stubborne milde,
And the coward fearelesse,
The wretched misers care to bountie turnes,
Cheering all thinges cheerelesse;
Love chaines the earth and heaven,
Turnes the Spheares, guides the yeares in endles peace;
The flourie earth through his power
Receiv's her due encrease.
And the coward fearelesse,
The wretched misers care to bountie turnes,
Cheering all thinges cheerelesse;
Love chaines the earth and heaven,
Turnes the Spheares, guides the yeares in endles peace;
The flourie earth through his power
Receiv's her due encrease.
VIII.
[And would you faine the reason know]
And would you faine the reason know
why my sad eies so often flow?
My heart ebs joy when they doe so,
and loves the moone by whom they go.
why my sad eies so often flow?
My heart ebs joy when they doe so,
and loves the moone by whom they go.
And will you aske why pale I looke?
tis not with poring on my booke:
My Mistris cheeke my bloud hath tooke,
for her mine owne hath me forsooke.
tis not with poring on my booke:
My Mistris cheeke my bloud hath tooke,
for her mine owne hath me forsooke.
Doe not demaund why I am mute:
loves silence doth all speech confute.
They set the noat, then tune the Lute,
harts frame their thoughts, then toongs their suit.
loves silence doth all speech confute.
They set the noat, then tune the Lute,
harts frame their thoughts, then toongs their suit.
Doe not admire why I admire:
my fever is no others fire;
Each severall heart hath his desire,
els proofe is false, and truth a lier.
my fever is no others fire;
Each severall heart hath his desire,
els proofe is false, and truth a lier.
If why I love you should see cause:
love should have forme like other lawes;
But fancie pleads not by the clawes,
tis as the sea, still vext with flawes.
love should have forme like other lawes;
But fancie pleads not by the clawes,
tis as the sea, still vext with flawes.
No fault upon my love espie,
for you perceive not with my eie;
My pallate to your tast may lie,
yet please it selfe deliciously.
for you perceive not with my eie;
My pallate to your tast may lie,
yet please it selfe deliciously.
455
Then let my sufferance be mine owne:
sufficeth it these reasons showne;
Reason and love are ever knowne
to fight till both be overthrowne.
sufficeth it these reasons showne;
Reason and love are ever knowne
to fight till both be overthrowne.
IX.
[When Laura smiles her sight revives both night and day]
When Laura smiles her sight revives both night and day,
The earth and heaven viewes with delight her wanton play,
And her speech with ever-flowing musicke doth repaire
The cruell wounds of sorrow and untam'd despaire.
The earth and heaven viewes with delight her wanton play,
And her speech with ever-flowing musicke doth repaire
The cruell wounds of sorrow and untam'd despaire.
The sprites that remaine in fleeting aire
Affect for pastime to untwine her tressed haire,
And the birds thinke sweete Aurora, mornings Queene, doth shine
From her bright sphere, when Laura shewes her lookes devine.
Affect for pastime to untwine her tressed haire,
And the birds thinke sweete Aurora, mornings Queene, doth shine
From her bright sphere, when Laura shewes her lookes devine.
Dianas eyes are not adorn'd with greater power
Then Lauras, when she lists awhile for sport to loure:
But when she her eyes encloseth, blindnes doth appeare
The chiefest grace of beautie, sweetlie seated there.
Then Lauras, when she lists awhile for sport to loure:
But when she her eyes encloseth, blindnes doth appeare
The chiefest grace of beautie, sweetlie seated there.
Love hath no fire but what he steales from her bright eyes,
Time hath no power but that which in her pleasure lyes:
For she with her devine beauties all the world subdues,
And fils with heav'nly spirits my humble muse.
Time hath no power but that which in her pleasure lyes:
For she with her devine beauties all the world subdues,
And fils with heav'nly spirits my humble muse.
X.
[Long have mine eies gaz'd with delight]
Long have mine eies gaz'd with delight,
Conveying hopes unto my soule;
In nothing happy, but in sight
Of her, that doth my sight controule:
But now mine eies must loose their light.
Conveying hopes unto my soule;
In nothing happy, but in sight
Of her, that doth my sight controule:
But now mine eies must loose their light.
My object now must be the aire,
To write in water words of fire,
And teach sad thoughts how to despaire:
Desert must quarrell with desire.
All were appeas'd were she not faire.
To write in water words of fire,
And teach sad thoughts how to despaire:
Desert must quarrell with desire.
All were appeas'd were she not faire.
456
For all my comfort, this I prove,
That Venus on the Sea was borne:
If Seas be calme, then doth she love,
If stormes arise, I am forlorne:
My doubtfull hopes like wind doe move.
That Venus on the Sea was borne:
If Seas be calme, then doth she love,
If stormes arise, I am forlorne:
My doubtfull hopes like wind doe move.
XI.
[Though far from joy, my sorrowes are as far]
Though far from joy, my sorrowes are as far,
And I both betweene:
Not too low, nor yet too high
Above my reach, would I bee seene.
Happy is he that so is placed,
Not to be envi'd, nor to bee disdain'd or disgraced.
And I both betweene:
Not too low, nor yet too high
Above my reach, would I bee seene.
Happy is he that so is placed,
Not to be envi'd, nor to bee disdain'd or disgraced.
The higher trees, the more stormes they endure,
Shrubs be troden downe:
But the meane, the golden meane,
Doth onely all our fortunes crowne:
Like to a streame that sweetely slideth
Through the flourie banks, and still in the midst his course guideth.
Shrubs be troden downe:
But the meane, the golden meane,
Doth onely all our fortunes crowne:
Like to a streame that sweetely slideth
Through the flourie banks, and still in the midst his course guideth.
XII.
[Shal I come, if I swim? wide are the waves, you see]
Shal I come, if I swim? wide are the waves, you see:
Shall I come, if I flie, my deere love, to thee?
Streames Venus will appease, Cupid gives me winges:
All the powers assist my desire
Save you alone, that set my wofull heart on fire.
Shall I come, if I flie, my deere love, to thee?
Streames Venus will appease, Cupid gives me winges:
All the powers assist my desire
Save you alone, that set my wofull heart on fire.
You are faire; so was Hero that in Sestos dwelt;
She a priest, yet the heate of love truly felt.
A greater streame then this did her love devide,
But she was his guide with a light:
So through the streames Leander did enjoy her sight.
She a priest, yet the heate of love truly felt.
A greater streame then this did her love devide,
But she was his guide with a light:
So through the streames Leander did enjoy her sight.
457
XIII.
[Aye me, that love should natures workes accuse!]
Aye me, that love should natures workes accuse!
Where cruell Laura still her beautie viewes,
River, or cloudie jet, or christall bright,
Are all but servants of her selfe-delight.
Where cruell Laura still her beautie viewes,
River, or cloudie jet, or christall bright,
Are all but servants of her selfe-delight.
Yet her deformed thoughts she cannot see,
And thats the cause she is so sterne to mee.
Vertue and duetie can no favour gaine:
O griefe, a death, to live and love in vaine!
And thats the cause she is so sterne to mee.
Vertue and duetie can no favour gaine:
O griefe, a death, to live and love in vaine!
XIV.
[Shall then a traiterous kis or a smile]
Shall then a traiterous kis or a smile
All my delights unhappily beguile?
Shall the vow of fayned love receive so ritch regard,
When true service dies neglected, and wants his due reward?
All my delights unhappily beguile?
Shall the vow of fayned love receive so ritch regard,
When true service dies neglected, and wants his due reward?
Deedes meritorious soone be forgot,
But one offence no time can ever blot;
Every day it is renu'd, and every night it bleedes,
And with bloudy streames of sorrow drownes all our better deedes.
But one offence no time can ever blot;
Every day it is renu'd, and every night it bleedes,
And with bloudy streames of sorrow drownes all our better deedes.
Beautie is not by desert to be woon,
Fortune hath all that is beneath the Sunne;
Fortune is the guide of love, and both of them be blind:
All their waies are full of errors, which no true feete can find.
Fortune hath all that is beneath the Sunne;
Fortune is the guide of love, and both of them be blind:
All their waies are full of errors, which no true feete can find.
XV.
[If I hope, I pine; if I feare, I faint and die]
If I hope, I pine; if I feare, I faint and die;
So betweene hope and feare I desp'rat lie,
Looking for joy to heaven, whence it should come:
But hope is blinde, joy deafe, and I am dumbe.
So betweene hope and feare I desp'rat lie,
Looking for joy to heaven, whence it should come:
But hope is blinde, joy deafe, and I am dumbe.
458
Yet I speake and crie, but alas with words of wo;
And joy conceives not them that murmure so.
He that the eares of joy will ever pearse
Must sing glad noates, or speake in happier verse.
And joy conceives not them that murmure so.
He that the eares of joy will ever pearse
Must sing glad noates, or speake in happier verse.
XVI.
[Unlesse there were consent twixt hell and heaven]
Unlesse there were consent twixt hell and heaven
That grace and wickednes should be combind,
I cannot make thee and thy beauties even;
Thy face is heaven, and torture in thy minde:
For more then worldly blisse is in thy eie,
And hellish torture in thy minde doth lie.
That grace and wickednes should be combind,
I cannot make thee and thy beauties even;
Thy face is heaven, and torture in thy minde:
For more then worldly blisse is in thy eie,
And hellish torture in thy minde doth lie.
A thousand Cherubins flie in her lookes,
And hearts in legions melt upon their view:
But gorgeous covers wall up filthie bookes;
Be it sinne to saie, that so your eyes do you:
But sure your mind adheres not with your eies,
For what they promise, that your heart denies.
And hearts in legions melt upon their view:
But gorgeous covers wall up filthie bookes;
Be it sinne to saie, that so your eyes do you:
But sure your mind adheres not with your eies,
For what they promise, that your heart denies.
But O, least I religion should misuse,
Inspire me thou, that ought'st thy selfe to know,
Since skillesse readers reading do abuse,
What inward meaning outward sence doth show:
For by thy eies and heart, chose and contem'd,
I waver, whether saved or condemn'd.
Inspire me thou, that ought'st thy selfe to know,
Since skillesse readers reading do abuse,
What inward meaning outward sence doth show:
For by thy eies and heart, chose and contem'd,
I waver, whether saved or condemn'd.
XVII.
[If she forsake me, I must die]
If she forsake me, I must die:
Shall I tell her so?
Alas, then strait she will replie,
No, no, no, no, no.
If I disclose my desp'rat state,
She will but make sport thereat,
And more unrelenting grow.
Shall I tell her so?
Alas, then strait she will replie,
No, no, no, no, no.
If I disclose my desp'rat state,
She will but make sport thereat,
And more unrelenting grow.
459
What heart can long such paines abide?
Fie uppon this love.
I would adventure farre and wide,
If it would remove.
But love will still my steppes pursue,
I cannot his wayes eschew:
Thus still helpeles hopes I prove.
Fie uppon this love.
I would adventure farre and wide,
If it would remove.
But love will still my steppes pursue,
I cannot his wayes eschew:
Thus still helpeles hopes I prove.
I doe my love in lines commend,
But, alas, in vaine;
The costly gifts that I doe send
She returnes againe:
Thus still is my despaire procur'd,
And her malice more assur'd:
Then come, death, and end my paine.
But, alas, in vaine;
The costly gifts that I doe send
She returnes againe:
Thus still is my despaire procur'd,
And her malice more assur'd:
Then come, death, and end my paine.
XVIII.
[What is a day, what is a yeere]
What is a day, what is a yeere
Of vaine delight and pleasure?
Like to a dreame it endlesse dies,
And from us like a vapour flies:
And this is all the fruit that we finde,
Which glorie in worldly treasure.
Of vaine delight and pleasure?
Like to a dreame it endlesse dies,
And from us like a vapour flies:
And this is all the fruit that we finde,
Which glorie in worldly treasure.
He that will hope for true delight
With vertue must be graced;
Sweet follie yeelds a bitter tast,
Which ever will appeare at last:
But if we still in vertue delight,
Our soules are in heaven placed.
With vertue must be graced;
Sweet follie yeelds a bitter tast,
Which ever will appeare at last:
But if we still in vertue delight,
Our soules are in heaven placed.
XIX.
[Kinde in unkindnesse, when will you relent]
Kinde in unkindnesse, when will you relent
And cease with faint love true love to torment?
Still entertain'd, excluded still I stand,
Her glove stil holde, but cannot touch the hand.
And cease with faint love true love to torment?
Still entertain'd, excluded still I stand,
Her glove stil holde, but cannot touch the hand.
460
In her faire hand my hopes and comforts rest:
O might my fortunes with that hand be blest,
No envious breaths then my deserts could shake,
For they are good whom such true love doth make.
O might my fortunes with that hand be blest,
No envious breaths then my deserts could shake,
For they are good whom such true love doth make.
O let not beautie so forget her birth
That it should fruitles home returne to earth:
Love is the fruite of beautie, then love one;
Not your sweete selfe, for such selfe love is none.
That it should fruitles home returne to earth:
Love is the fruite of beautie, then love one;
Not your sweete selfe, for such selfe love is none.
Love one that onely lives in loving you,
Whose wrong'd deserts would you with pity view:
This strange distast which your affections swaies
Would relish love, and you find better daies.
Whose wrong'd deserts would you with pity view:
This strange distast which your affections swaies
Would relish love, and you find better daies.
Thus till my happie sight your beautie viewes,
Whose sweet remembrance stil my hope renewes,
Let these poore lines sollicite love for mee,
And place my joyes where my desires would bee.
Whose sweet remembrance stil my hope renewes,
Let these poore lines sollicite love for mee,
And place my joyes where my desires would bee.
XX.
[What thing is love but mourning?]
What thing is love but mourning?
What desire, but a selfe-burning?
Till shee that hates doth love returne,
Thus will I mourne, thus will I sing,
Come away, come away, my darling.
What desire, but a selfe-burning?
Till shee that hates doth love returne,
Thus will I mourne, thus will I sing,
Come away, come away, my darling.
Beautie is but a blooming,
Youth in his glorie entombing;
Time hath a wheel which none can stay:
Then come away, while thus I sing,
Come away, come away, my darling.
Youth in his glorie entombing;
Time hath a wheel which none can stay:
Then come away, while thus I sing,
Come away, come away, my darling.
Sommer in winter fadeth,
Gloomie night heav'nly light shadeth,
Like to the morne are Venus flowers;
Such are her howers: then will I sing,
Come away, come away, my darling.
Gloomie night heav'nly light shadeth,
Like to the morne are Venus flowers;
Such are her howers: then will I sing,
Come away, come away, my darling.
461
XXI.
[Whether men doe laugh or weepe]
Whether men doe laugh or weepe,
Whether they doe wake or sleepe,
Whether they die yoong or olde,
Whether they feele heate or colde,
There is, underneath the sunne,
Nothing in true earnest done.
Whether they doe wake or sleepe,
Whether they die yoong or olde,
Whether they feele heate or colde,
There is, underneath the sunne,
Nothing in true earnest done.
All our pride is but a jest;
None are worst, and none are best;
Griefe, and joy, and hope, and feare
Play their Pageants every where:
Vaine opinion all doth sway,
And the world is but a play.
None are worst, and none are best;
Griefe, and joy, and hope, and feare
Play their Pageants every where:
Vaine opinion all doth sway,
And the world is but a play.
Powers above in cloudes doe sit,
Mocking our poore apish wit
That so lamely, with such state,
Their high glorie imitate:
No ill can be felt but paine,
And that happie men disdaine.
Mocking our poore apish wit
That so lamely, with such state,
Their high glorie imitate:
No ill can be felt but paine,
And that happie men disdaine.
FINIS.
| The Works of Thomas Campion | |