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| III. |
| IIII. |
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| IX. |
| X. |
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| XIII. |
| XIIII. |
| XV. |
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| XVII. |
| XVIII. |
| XIX. |
| XX. |
 | Songs For The Lvte Viol and Voice |  |
[_]
The following poems are scored for music in the source texts. Where poems are not stanzaic, no attempt has been made to reconstruct the metrical lines. Variations for different voices have been ignored. Repetition marks have been ignored.
To Mrs Anne Grene the worthy Daughter to Sr William Grene of Milton Knight.
That which was onely priuately compos'd,
For your delight, Faire Ornament of Worth,
Is here, come, to bee publikely disclos'd:
And to an vniuersall view put forth.
Which hauing beene but yours and mine before,
(Or but of few besides) is made hereby
To bee the worlds: and yours and mine no more.
So that in this sort giuing it to you,
I giue it from you, and therein doe wrong,
To make that, which in priuate was your due:
Thus to the world in common to belong.
And thereby may debase the estimate,
Of what perhaps did beare some price before:
For oft we see how things of slender rate,
Being vndiuulg'd, are choisely held in store:
And rarer compositions once expos'd,
Are (as vnworthy of the world) condemn'd:
For what, but by their hauing beene disclos'd
To all, hath made all misteries contemn'd.
For your delight, Faire Ornament of Worth,
Is here, come, to bee publikely disclos'd:
And to an vniuersall view put forth.
Which hauing beene but yours and mine before,
(Or but of few besides) is made hereby
To bee the worlds: and yours and mine no more.
So that in this sort giuing it to you,
I giue it from you, and therein doe wrong,
To make that, which in priuate was your due:
Thus to the world in common to belong.
And thereby may debase the estimate,
Of what perhaps did beare some price before:
For oft we see how things of slender rate,
Being vndiuulg'd, are choisely held in store:
And rarer compositions once expos'd,
Are (as vnworthy of the world) condemn'd:
For what, but by their hauing beene disclos'd
To all, hath made all misteries contemn'd.
And therefore why had it not beene ynow,
That Milton onely heard our melodie?
Where Baucis and Philæmon onely show,
To Gods and men their hospitalitie:
And thereunto a ioyfull eare afford,
In midst of their well welcom'd company:
Where wee (as Birds doe to themselues record)
Might entertaine our priuate harmonie.
But fearing least that time might haue beguild
You of your owne, and me of what was mine,
I did desire to haue it knowne my Child:
And for his right, to others I resigne.
Though I might haue beene warn'd by him, who is
Both neare and deare to mee, that what we giue
Vnto these times, we giue t'vnthankfulnesse,
And so without vnconstant censures, liue.
But yet these humours will no warning take,
Wee still must blame the fortune that wee make.
And yet herein wee doe aduenture now,
But Ayre for Ayre, no danger can accrew,
They are but our refusalls wee bestow,
And wee thus cast the old t'haue roome for new:
Which I must still addresse t'your learned hand,
Who mee and all I am, shall still command.
That Milton onely heard our melodie?
Where Baucis and Philæmon onely show,
To Gods and men their hospitalitie:
And thereunto a ioyfull eare afford,
In midst of their well welcom'd company:
Where wee (as Birds doe to themselues record)
Might entertaine our priuate harmonie.
But fearing least that time might haue beguild
You of your owne, and me of what was mine,
I did desire to haue it knowne my Child:
And for his right, to others I resigne.
Though I might haue beene warn'd by him, who is
Both neare and deare to mee, that what we giue
Vnto these times, we giue t'vnthankfulnesse,
And so without vnconstant censures, liue.
But yet these humours will no warning take,
Wee still must blame the fortune that wee make.
And yet herein wee doe aduenture now,
But Ayre for Ayre, no danger can accrew,
They are but our refusalls wee bestow,
And wee thus cast the old t'haue roome for new:
Which I must still addresse t'your learned hand,
Who mee and all I am, shall still command.
Iohn Danyel.
I.
[Coy Daphne fled from Phœbus hot pursuite]
Coy Daphne fled from Phœbus hot pursuite,
Carelesse of Passion, sencelesse of Remorse:
Whil'st hee complain'd his griefes shee rested mute,
He beg'd her stay, shee still kept on her course.
But what reward shee had for this you see,
She rests transform'd a winter beaten tree.
Carelesse of Passion, sencelesse of Remorse:
Whil'st hee complain'd his griefes shee rested mute,
He beg'd her stay, shee still kept on her course.
But what reward shee had for this you see,
She rests transform'd a winter beaten tree.
The Answere.
Chast Daphne fled from Phœbus hot pursuit,Knowing mens passions Idle and of course:
And though he plain'd twas fit shee should be mute,
And honour would shee should keepe on her course.
For which faire deede her Glory still wee see,
Shee rests still Greene, and so wish I to bee.
II.
[Thou prety Bird how doe I see]
Thou prety Bird how doe I see,Thy silly state and mine agree:
For thou a prisoner art,
So is my hart.
Thou sing'st to her and so doe I addresse,
My Musicke to her eare that's mercilesse:
But heerein doth the difference lie,
That thou art grac'd so am not I,
Thou singing liu'st, and I must singing die.
III.
[He whose desires are still abroad I see.]
He whose desires are still abroad I see.Hath neuer any peace at home the while:
And therefore now come back my hart to mee,
It is but for superfluous things we toile,
Rest alone with thy selfe be all within,
For what without thou get'st thou dost not win.
Honour, wealth, glory, fame, are no such things,
But that which from Imagination springs.
High reaching power that seemes to ouer grow,
Doth creepe but on the earth, lies base and low.
IIII.
[Like as the Lute delights or else dislikes]
Like as the Lute delights or else dislikes,As is his art that playes vpon the same:
So sounds my Muse according as shee strikes.
On my hart strings, high tun'd vnto her fame.
Her touch doth cause the warble of the sound,
Which here I yeeld in lamentable wise:
A wayling descant on the sweetest ground,
Whose due reports giues honour to her eyes.
If any pleasing relish here I vse,
Then Iudge the world her beautie giues the same:
Else harsh my stile vntunable my Muse,
Hoarse sounds the voice that praiseth not her name.
For no ground else could make the Musicke such,
Nor other hand could giue so sweet a touch.
V.
[Dost thou withdraw thy grace]
Dost thou withdraw thy grace,
For that I should not loue:
And think'st thou to remoue,
M'affections with thy face?
For that I should not loue:
And think'st thou to remoue,
M'affections with thy face?
As if that loue did hould no part,
But where thy beautie lies:
And were not in my hart,
Greater then in thy faire eyes?
But where thy beautie lies:
And were not in my hart,
Greater then in thy faire eyes?
Ah yes tis more, more is desire,
There where it wounds and pines:
As fire is farre more fire,
Where it burnes then where it shines?
There where it wounds and pines:
As fire is farre more fire,
Where it burnes then where it shines?
VI.
[Why canst thou not as others doe?]
Why canst thou not as others doe?
Looke on mee with vnwounding eyes:
And yet looke sweet but yet not so,
Smile but not in killing wise.
Arme not thy graces to confound,
Onely looke but doe not wound.
Looke on mee with vnwounding eyes:
And yet looke sweet but yet not so,
Smile but not in killing wise.
Arme not thy graces to confound,
Onely looke but doe not wound.
Why should mine eyes see more in you,
Then they can see in all the rest:
For I can others beauties view,
And not finde my hart opprest.
O bee as others are to mee,
Or let mee, bee more to thee.
Then they can see in all the rest:
For I can others beauties view,
And not finde my hart opprest.
O bee as others are to mee,
Or let mee, bee more to thee.
VII.
[Stay Cruell stay]
Stay Cruell stay,Pittie myne anguish,
And if I languish
For that which you do beare away,
Ah, how can you be so vnkind,
As not to greeue for that you leaue behind,
And if you'l goe, yet let your pittie stay,
But will you goe and shew that you neglect mee?
Yet say farewell, and seeme but to respect mee.
VIII.
[Tyme cruell tyme canst thou subdue that brow]
Tyme cruell tyme canst thou subdue that brow,That conquers all but thee, and thee too stayes:
As if shee were exempt from scyeth or bow,
From Loue and yeares vnsubiect to decayes.
Or art thou growne in league with those faire eyes,
That they might help thee to consume our dayes,
Or dost thou loue her for her cruelties,
Being mercilesse lyke thee that no man wayes?
Then doe so still although shee makes no steeme,
Of dayes nor yeares, but lets them run in vaine:
Hould still thy swift wing'd hours that wondring seeme
To gase on her, euen to turne back againe.
And doe so still although she nothing cares,
Doe as I doe, loue her although vnkinde,
Hould still, yet O I feare at vnawares,
Thou wilt beguile her though thou seem'st so kinde.
IX.
[Greefe keep within and scorne to shew but teares]
Greefe keep within and scorne to shew but teares,Since Ioy can weepe as well as thou:
Disdaine to sigh for so can slender cares,
Which but from Idle causes grow.
Doe not looke forth vnlesse thou didst know how
To looke with thine owne face, and as thou art,
And onely let my hart,
That knowes more reason why,
Pyne, fret, consume, swell, burst and dye.
X.
[Drop not myne eyes nor Trickle downe so fast]
Drop not myne eyes nor Trickle downe so fast,For so you could doe oft before,
In our sad farewells and sweet meetings past,
And shall his death now haue no more?
Can niggard sorrow yeld no other store:
To shew the plentie of afflictions smart,
Then onely thou poore hart,
That knowst more reason why,
Pyne, Fret, Consume, Swell, Burst and Dye.
XI.
[Haue all our passions certaine proper vents]
Haue all our passions certaine proper vents,And sorow none that is her owne?
But she must borow others complements,
To make her inward feelings knowne?
Are Ioyes delights and deathes compassion showne,
With one lyke face and one lamenting part?
Then onely thou poore hart that know'st more reason why,
Pine, Fret, Consume, Swell, Burst, and Dye.
XII.
[Let not Cloris think because]
Let not Cloris think because
She hath vnvassald mee,
That her bewtie can giue lawes,
To others that are free.
I was made to be the pray,
And bootie of her eyes:
In my bosome she may say,
Her greatest kingdome lyes.
She hath vnvassald mee,
That her bewtie can giue lawes,
To others that are free.
I was made to be the pray,
And bootie of her eyes:
In my bosome she may say,
Her greatest kingdome lyes.
Though others may her brow adore,
Yet more must I that therein see far more,
Then any others eyes haue powre to see,
Shee is to mee
More then to any others she can bee.
I can decerne more secret notes,
That in the margine of her checkes Loue quotes:
Then any else besides haue art to read,
No lookes proceed,
From those fayre eyes but to mee wonder breed.
Yet more must I that therein see far more,
Then any others eyes haue powre to see,
Shee is to mee
More then to any others she can bee.
I can decerne more secret notes,
That in the margine of her checkes Loue quotes:
Then any else besides haue art to read,
No lookes proceed,
From those fayre eyes but to mee wonder breed.
O then why,
Should shee fly,
From him to whom her sight,
Doth ad so much aboue her might:
Why should not shee,
Still Ioy to raigne in mee?
Should shee fly,
From him to whom her sight,
Doth ad so much aboue her might:
Why should not shee,
Still Ioy to raigne in mee?
XIII.
[Can dolefull Notes to measur'd accents set]
Can dolefull Notes to measur'd accents set,Expresse vnmeasur'd griefes that tyme forget?
XIIII.
[No, let Chromatique Tunes harsh without ground]
No, let Chromatique Tunes harsh without ground,Be sullayne Musique for a Tunelesse hart:
Chromatique Tunes most lyke my passions sound,
As if combynd to beare their falling part.
XV.
[Vncertaine certaine turnes, of thoughts forecast]
Vncertaine certaine turnes, of thoughts forecast,Bring backe the same, then dye and dying last.
XVI.
[Eyes looke no more, for what hath all the earth that's worth the sight?]
Eyes looke no more, for what hath all the earth that's worth the sight?
Fares heare no more, for what can breath the voyce of true Delight?
Cloath thee my hart, with darke black thoughts, and think but of dispaire,
Silence lock vp my words, and scorne these Idle sounds of Ayre.
Fares heare no more, for what can breath the voyce of true Delight?
Cloath thee my hart, with darke black thoughts, and think but of dispaire,
Silence lock vp my words, and scorne these Idle sounds of Ayre.
Thinke Glory, Honour, Ioyes, Delights, Contents,
Are but the emptie reports
Of vnappropried termes that breath inuents,
Not knowing what it imports.
But Sorrow, Griefe, Affliction, and Dispaire,
These are the things that are sure,
And these wee feele not as conceyts in th'ayre,
But as the same wee endure.
Are but the emptie reports
Of vnappropried termes that breath inuents,
Not knowing what it imports.
But Sorrow, Griefe, Affliction, and Dispaire,
These are the things that are sure,
And these wee feele not as conceyts in th'ayre,
But as the same wee endure.
Ioyes, delights, and pleasures in vs hould such a doubtfull part,
As if they were but thrall,
And those were all in all,
For Griefes, Distrusts, Remorce, I see must domineere the hart.
Ioyes, Delights, and Pleasures, makes griefe to tiranize vs worse,
Our mirth brings but distastes:
For nought delights and lastes,
Griefe then take all my hart, for where none striue there needs lesse force.
As if they were but thrall,
And those were all in all,
For Griefes, Distrusts, Remorce, I see must domineere the hart.
Ioyes, Delights, and Pleasures, makes griefe to tiranize vs worse,
Our mirth brings but distastes:
For nought delights and lastes,
Griefe then take all my hart, for where none striue there needs lesse force.
XVII.
[If I could snut the gate against my thoughts]
If I could snut the gate against my thoughts,
And keepe out sorrow from this roome with-in:
Or memory could cancell all the notes,
Of my misdeeds and I vnthink my sinne,
How free, how cleare, how cleane my soule should lye,
Discharg'd of such a lothsome company.
And keepe out sorrow from this roome with-in:
Or memory could cancell all the notes,
Of my misdeeds and I vnthink my sinne,
How free, how cleare, how cleane my soule should lye,
Discharg'd of such a lothsome company.
Or were there other roomes with-out my hart,
That dyd not to my conscience ioyne so neare,
Where I might lodge the thoughts of sin a-part,
That I might not their claim'rous crying heare.
What peace, what Ioy, what ease should I possesse,
Free'd from their horrors that my soule oppresse.
That dyd not to my conscience ioyne so neare,
Where I might lodge the thoughts of sin a-part,
That I might not their claim'rous crying heare.
What peace, what Ioy, what ease should I possesse,
Free'd from their horrors that my soule oppresse.
But O my Sauiour, who my refuge art,
Let thy deare mercies stand twixt them and mee:
And be the wall to seperate my hart,
So that I may at length repose mee free:
That peace, and Ioy, and rest may be within,
And I remaine deuided from my sinne.
Let thy deare mercies stand twixt them and mee:
And be the wall to seperate my hart,
So that I may at length repose mee free:
That peace, and Ioy, and rest may be within,
And I remaine deuided from my sinne.
XVIII.
[I dye when as I doe not see]
I dye when as I doe not see
Her that is lyfe and all to mee:
And when I see her yet I dye,
In seeing of her crueltie:
So that to mee like miserie is wrought,
Both when I see and when I see her not.
Her that is lyfe and all to mee:
And when I see her yet I dye,
In seeing of her crueltie:
So that to mee like miserie is wrought,
Both when I see and when I see her not.
Or shall I speake or silent greeue,
Yet who will silencie releeue:
And if I speake I may offend,
And speaking not my heart will rend:
So that I see to mee it is all one,
Speake I or speake I not, I am vndone.
Yet who will silencie releeue:
And if I speake I may offend,
And speaking not my heart will rend:
So that I see to mee it is all one,
Speake I or speake I not, I am vndone.
XIX.
[What delight can they enioy]
What delight can they enioy,
Whose harts are not their owne?
But are gon abroade astray,
And to others bosomes flowne.
Whose harts are not their owne?
But are gon abroade astray,
And to others bosomes flowne.
Seely comforts, seely Ioy,
Which fall and ryse as others moue,
Who seldome vse to turne our way,
And therefore Cloris will not loue:
For well I see,
How false men bee,
And let them pyne that Louers proue.
Which fall and ryse as others moue,
Who seldome vse to turne our way,
And therefore Cloris will not loue:
For well I see,
How false men bee,
And let them pyne that Louers proue.
XX.
[Now the Earth, the Skies, the Ayre]
Now the Earth, the Skies, the AyreNow the Earth, the Skies, the Ayre, All things faire, Seemes new borne thoughts t'infuse, whil'st the returning Spring, Ioyes each thing, and blasted hopes renewes.
When onely I alone, Left to mone, Finde no times borne for mee. No flowres, no medow springs. No Bird sings. But notes of miserie.
| Songs For The Lvte Viol and Voice | |