Mvsicke Of Svndrie kindes Set forth in two Bookes. The First Whereof Are, Aries for 4. Voices to the Lute, Orphorion, or Basse-Viol, with a Dialogue for two Voices, and two Basse Viols in parts, tunde the Lute way. The Second Are Pauens, Galiards, Almaines, Toies, Iigges, Thumpes and such like, for two Basse-Viols, the Lieraway, so made as the greatest number may serue to play alone, very easie to be performde. Composed by Thomas Ford |
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 | Mvsicke Of Svndrie kindes |  |
II.
[What then is loue sings Coridon]
What then is loue sings Coridon
Since Phillida is growne so coy.
A flattring glasse to gaze vppon
A busieiest A serious toy.
A flowre stil budding neuer blown
A scantie dearth in fullest store
Yeelding least fruite where most is sowne
My dalie note shal be therefore
Heigh ho heigh ho chill loue no more
Heigh ho, heigh ho, chil loue no more.
Since Phillida is growne so coy.
A flattring glasse to gaze vppon
A busieiest A serious toy.
A flowre stil budding neuer blown
A scantie dearth in fullest store
Yeelding least fruite where most is sowne
My dalie note shal be therefore
Heigh ho heigh ho chill loue no more
Heigh ho, heigh ho, chil loue no more.
Tis like a morning dewie rose
Spread fairely to the suns arise,
But when his beames he doth disclose,
That which then flourisht quickly dies,
It is a selfe fed dying hope
A promisde blisse, a saluelesse sore,
An aimelesse marke, an erring scope,
My dailie note shall be therefore,
Heigh ho, &c,
Spread fairely to the suns arise,
But when his beames he doth disclose,
That which then flourisht quickly dies,
It is a selfe fed dying hope
A promisde blisse, a saluelesse sore,
An aimelesse marke, an erring scope,
My dailie note shall be therefore,
Heigh ho, &c,
Tis like a Lampe shining to all,
Whilst in it selfe it doth decay,
It seemes to free, whome it doth thrall,
And leades our pathles thoughts astray,
It is the spring of wintred harts,
Parcht by the summers heate before,
Faint hope to kindly warmth conuerts,
My daily note shall be therefore
Heigh ho.
Whilst in it selfe it doth decay,
It seemes to free, whome it doth thrall,
And leades our pathles thoughts astray,
It is the spring of wintred harts,
Parcht by the summers heate before,
Faint hope to kindly warmth conuerts,
My daily note shall be therefore
Heigh ho.
| Mvsicke Of Svndrie kindes | |