Songs of sundrie natures some of grauitie, and others of myrth, fit for all companies and voyces. Lately made and composed into Musicke of 3. 4. 5. and 6. parts: and published for the delight of all such as take pleasure in the exercise of that Art |
 |
|
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IIII. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
| XIIII. |
|
| XV. |
| XVI. |
| XVII. |
| XVIII. |
| XIX. |
| XX. |
| XXI. |
| XXII. |
| XXIII. |
| XXIIII. |
| XXV. |
|
| XXVI. |
| XXVII. |
| XXVIII. |
| XXIX. |
| XXX. | XXX.
|
| XXXI. |
| XXXII. |
| XXXIII. |
| XXXIIII. |
| XXXV. |
| XXXVI. |
| XXXVII. |
|
| XXXVIII. |
| XXXIX. |
| XL. |
| XLI. |
| XLII. |
| XLIII. |
| XLIIII. |
| XLV. |
| XLVI. |
| XLVII. |
 | Songs of sundrie natures |  |
XXX.
[When I was otherwise then now I am]
When I was otherwise then now I am,
I loued more but skilled not so much:
Fayre wordes & smyles, could haue contented than,
My simple age, & ignorance was such:
But at the length, experiēce made me wonder,
That harts & tongues did lodge so farre assunder.
I loued more but skilled not so much:
Fayre wordes & smyles, could haue contented than,
My simple age, & ignorance was such:
But at the length, experiēce made me wonder,
That harts & tongues did lodge so farre assunder.
As watermen which on the Teames do row
Looke to the East, but West keepes on the way,
My Soueraigne sweet, her countenance setled so,
To feede my hope while she her snares might laye.
And when she saw, that I was in her danger,
Good God, how soone she proued then a ranger.
Looke to the East, but West keepes on the way,
My Soueraigne sweet, her countenance setled so,
To feede my hope while she her snares might laye.
And when she saw, that I was in her danger,
Good God, how soone she proued then a ranger.
I could not choose but laugh although to late,
To see great craft diszifered in a toye,
I loue her still, but such conditions hate,
Which so prophanes my Paradice of ioy.
Loue whetts the witts, whose paine is but a pleasure,
A toy, by fitts, to play withall at leasure.
To see great craft diszifered in a toye,
I loue her still, but such conditions hate,
Which so prophanes my Paradice of ioy.
Loue whetts the witts, whose paine is but a pleasure,
A toy, by fitts, to play withall at leasure.
FINIS.
| Songs of sundrie natures | |