Cheerfull ayres or ballads first composed for one single voice, and since set for three voices / by John Wilson ... Cheerfull ayres or ballads Wilson, John, 1595-1674. This text is an enriched version of the TCP digital transcription A66559 of text R207813 in the English Short Title Catalog (Wing W2908). Textual changes and metadata enrichments aim at making the text more computationally tractable, easier to read, and suitable for network-based collaborative curation by amateur and professional end users from many walks of life. The text has been tokenized and linguistically annotated with MorphAdorner. The annotation includes standard spellings that support the display of a text in a standardized format that preserves archaic forms ('loveth', 'seekest'). Textual changes aim at restoring the text the author or stationer meant to publish. This text has not been fully proofread Approx. 73 KB of XML-encoded text transcribed from 78 1-bit group-IV TIFF page images. EarlyPrint Project Evanston,IL, Notre Dame, IN, St. Louis, MO 2017 A66559 Wing W2908 ESTC R207813 12829686 ocm 12829686 94319 This keyboarded and encoded edition of the work described above is co-owned by the institutions providing financial support to the Early English Books Online Text Creation Partnership. This Phase I text is available for reuse, according to the terms of Creative Commons 0 1.0 Universal . The text can be copied, modified, distributed and performed, even for commercial purposes, all without asking permission. Early English books online. (EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. A66559) Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 94319) Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1641-1700 ; 44:10) Cheerfull ayres or ballads first composed for one single voice, and since set for three voices / by John Wilson ... Cheerfull ayres or ballads Wilson, John, 1595-1674. Johnson, Robert, ca. 1583-1633. Lanier, Nicholas, 1588-1666. 1 score ([8], 147 p.) + 2 parts Printed by W. Hall for Ric. Davis ..., Oxford : 1660. "Cantus primus is a compleate book of it selfe, carrying the principall ayre to sing alone with a through bass. Cantus secundus and bassus are also printed singly to make two, or three parts, as shall be requisite for the company that will use them"--Pref. Songs by Johnson, Lanier, Wilson, and anonymous. First ed. Cf. Wing. Errata on p. [3] of pt. 1. Reproduction of original in Library of Congress. Imperfect: parts are lacking on film. eng Songs with continuo. Part-songs, English. Vocal duets with continuo. Vocal trios with continuo. A66559 R207813 (Wing W2908). civilwar no Cheerfull ayres or ballads first composed for one single voice and since set for three voices by John Wilson Dr in Musick Professor of the s Wilson, John 1659 10084 7 0 0 696 0 0 6909 F The rate of 6909 defects per 10,000 words puts this text in the F category of texts with 100 or more defects per 10,000 words. 2004-06 TCP Assigned for keying and markup 2004-06 Apex CoVantage Keyed and coded from ProQuest page images 2004-08 John Latta Sampled and proofread 2004-08 John Latta Text and markup reviewed and edited 2004-10 pfs Batch review (QC) and XML conversion Cheerfull Ayres OR BALLADS First composed for one single Voice and since set for three Voices BY JOHN WILSON DR in MUSICK Professor of the same in the UNIVERSITY OF OXFORD . OXFORD . Printed by W. HALL , for RIC. DAVIS . Anno Dom. M DC LX . THE PREFACE . SOme few of these Ayres were Originally composed by those whose names are affixed to them , but are here placed as being new set by the Author of the rest . CANTUS PRIMUS is a compleate Book of it selfe , carrying the principall Ayre to Sing alone with a through Base . CANTUS SECUNDUS and BASSUS are also printed singly to make two , or three Parts , as shall be requisite for the Company that will use them . This being the first Essay ( for ought we understand ) of printing Musick that ever was in Oxford , and the Printers being unacquainted with such Work , hath occasioned the faults hereafter mentioned , in this single Book , the greater number whereof are the omission of Moods , which are supplyed in the other two Parts , and will be easily mended with a pen in this . The consideration of what is here premised , with assurance that the other two Parts are more correct , and a promise of better care in what shall issue from this Presse for the future will ( doubtlesse with unprejudic'd Persons ) procure pardon for the present Errata . ERRATA IN CANTUS PRIMUS . Mode wants . pag. 6. 26. 28. 30. 32. 34. 36. 38. 40. 53. 54. 57. 58. 60. 62. 64. 67. 70. 73. 76. Page 13. l. 3. note 3. should stand in D la sol re . 33. l. 4. note 1. should stand in B me . 34. second barr & second line , a note wanting in C fa ut . the 4th line and second barr the semibriefe should stand in B me . 49. two first notes of the 2d barr and 3d line should be flat and the semibriefe in the 3d bar of the 4th line flat and the 2d note of the 5. line and first of the 6th line flat also . Page . 52. The last note of the forth line should stand in A re . 64. The first note of the sixth line should stand in D sol re . 65. The fift note of the last barr in the fift line , should be a Crotchet . 66. The last note of the Base should stand in C fa ut . 67. The semibriefe of the third barr in the sixth line should stand in C fa ut . 93. The forth note in the 2d line should stand in G sol re ut . THE TABLE . Key   Cant. 1. Cant. 2. Bassus . G sharp . When Troy towne 2 2 2 From the fayre Lavinian 3 3 3 Will you buy any honesty 4 4 4 Full Fathom five 6 5 5 Where the Bee sucks 8 6 6 When Love with 10 7 7 Have you any worke 12 8 8 Come hither you that 14 10 10 Young Thirsis lay in 16 11 11 Kawasha comes in 18 12 12 Cast your Caps and 22 14 14 G flat Doe not feare to put 24 16 16 Thoughts doe not vex me 26 17 17 Who so complaineth 28 18 18 Come silent night 30 19 19 Come I faint 128 78 78 A Come constant hearts 32 20 20 Love and disdaine 34 21 21 In a season . 36 22 22 Cupid thou art a 38 23 23 Though your strangenesse 40 24 24 Aske me no more 42 25 33 Cloras false Love 44 26 34 I Love ( Ahlas ) 46 27 35 A sharp If I dye 48 28 36 Greedy Lover 50 29 37 B flat . Thine Eyes to me 53 31 39 Awake awake 54 32 40 I would have thee merry 57 42 42 In the merry Mont . 58 43 43 C flat . Faine would I Cloris 60 44 44 Deare give me a thousand 62 45 45 Lawn as white as driven 64 46 46 Goe weatherbeaten 67 48 48 Goe restlesse thoughts 70 50 50 If my Lady bid begin 73 52 52 Boast not blind Boy 7● 54 55 When on mine Eyes ●● ●6 56 C sharp . Tell me where your 76 53 53 Come thou Father of 80 55 54 Sir this my litle 82 56 56 D Noe noe I tell thee noe 84 57 57 For ever let 86 58 59 Fly hence shadowes that 88 59 58 Since love hath brought 92 60 61 You Heraulds of my 94 62 63 Why thinkst thou foole 96 63 62 E flat Since Love hath in 90 61 60 When the cleare Sun 98 64 64 Thou that excellest 106 67 67 I sweare by Muskadell 108 68 68 Fondnesse of Man 110 69 69 You say you love me 114 71 71 Hence with this Wedlook 116 72 72 So have I seen 118 73 73 Viw'st thou that poore 120 74 74 If I must tel you 122 75 75 F flat What would any man 103 66 66 Down be still you seas 112 70 70 Bee not thou so foolish 126 77 77 F sharp God Lyeus 130 79 79 Not Roses couch't 132 80 80 So many Loves have I 134 81 81 Now the Lusty spring 136 82 82 Whereforè peep'st thou 138 83 83 Turne thy beautious face 140 84 84 When I beheld my 142 85 85 My Love and I 144 86 86 In a vale with flowrets 146 87 87 To the ever honoured Dr JOHN WILSON on his incomparable Book of Ballads . NOt as a bush to thy more noble wine . Doe we prefix these lines ; what ever 's thine Commends it selfe ; we pay our homage , due To this diviner science and to you : Did Orpheus Harpe cause beasts to dance , thine more Thy loftier strains draw love from them , before Did hate thy art and thee : this wonder shall Raise thee to be a God , make him to fall . Sure some Intelligence was sent from Jove T' acquaint thee with the Harmony above ; How else with such composure are we blest . 'T is Angells Musick though in Mortalls dresse Those low and creeping words we Ballads call Thy powre has raisd to be coelestiall . O prodigie of nature that couldst keep Thy soul in tune , when all the world was deep In discord : it 's then time , for thee to set Some sprightly Ayre , when there 's most need of it . When sacred Anthems ceased , and in stead Of that more heavenly Musick , did succeed Nothing but barking tones , when Organs were By Trumpets silenc'd , then blown from the Quire ; Thou , borne to humour all , out of thy braine Full fraught with melodye , didst hatch this traine Of songs , from whose sweet concord always runs Full streames of harmelesse mirth t'Apollo's sons . These Charme our senses make our souls to dwell Upon our ears , there to keep Sentinell . Heer 's Musick for the mean'st capacity , And for the skillful'st too deep Harmony : Hold still your penns then , cease for to rehearse WILSON's deserved praise in untun'd verse . And learne to sing those notes which rightly hit , Speake more to 's honour th●n th'accutest wit . Proceed Harmonious soul , in this thine art . More of thy Musick still to us impart , For in these sheets thou shalt embalmed be , And live a WILSON to Eternity . To my honoured friend Dr WILSON on His Musicall Ayres , and incomparable Skill on the Lute . COuld wife Pithagoras tast thy skill ; Or drown'd in numbers drink his fill ; Could he [ but revel't in thy Ayre One houre , he 'd sweare thy soul is there . Thou 'lt tempt , ( take but thy Lute in hand , ) Euridice againe to Land ; Who Ravisht with one carelesse glance , May safely venture t'other dance On fatall Serpents , lul'd in th'armes Of thy soft notes they 'l need no charmes , Labour but on thy strings , they 'l throng Themselves into a Swans last song ; Where every note will ring the knell Of some dead baffled Philomel . E. D. ex AE de Christi On that incomparable Master of Musick Dr WILSON . SIR , such in sounds your skill 's , that while you 're here , Oxfords not only Englands eye but Eare : So at a shake of yours our passions flow , As if you reacht our Heartstrings with your Bow , Touch your Theorboe , and round all our souls Like Unisons the restlesse Quaver rouls , Your * Schoole did never so deserve its name , As since your ravishing Rhetorick thither came , No lofty style like Ela can command , No Figures like the postures of your Hand , How have I seen , souls melting through the Eyes , Ears chaind , tongues silent at your Melodies . Like Orpheus Rivers , Beasts , Stones , Birds you move , When Tears , & wrath , Fiercenesse , and Winged Love Follow your Tunes , such Majesty attends Your strokes , that Law comes from your Fingers ends , The Spartans Musick made them fight & die , Your's would have made them to graspe Victorie . No wonder then if Poets find their Feet , When with such all Commanding notes they meet . Praise is an Echo to good deeds , then fit It is , good Musick should have most of it . A. C. To his honoured Friend Dr JOHN WILSON upon his most excellent Book of Ayres . LEnd my Muse wings and with them I will dare , To soare aloft in your much clearer Ayre . Where your harmonious sphere is known to move With sweeter Accents then those doe above . Did now Promethius live hee 'd find a way , Not only for to animate meere Clay . aske for pure Ayre not for Jove's fire , That he might some harmonious soules inspire . Musick 's compleatest parts you here have set , Only that wee might find them more compleat , Toth' envy of our Nation here you shew , Musicks perfection perfected by you . To the great Master of Musick Dr J. WILSON upon his most excellent Book of Ayres . THe soul 's a Symphony : Th'harmonious blast , The perfect Ayre of the great Protoplast . No wonder then if thy Diviner Note Betrày my soul , make mine invention dote . Stir'd by thy Musick from each melting string , Didst thou not Cheat me of my soule , I 'de sing , I 'de Praise thy Vertues ; but thy sweetest Quire , Bids me give audience only , and Admire . Each stroake speaks WILSON and whoever plays Sings a new Anthem to his lasting praise . 'T is WILSON speakes , each neatly warbled straine Is but the Echo of th' inventors braine . Not Death , nor Time can e're eclipse thy Fame , While each string , from thy Book , thus sounds thy Name . Ne're feare Oblivion then : Thy Glory shall , Know none , but what 's the worlds great Funerall . N. M. To my honoured Friend JOHN WILSON Doctor of Musick , on his excellent Book of Ayres . AS Friends do meet whom nobler love hath joyn'd And made ( though sev'rall bodies , yet ) one mind , Who count themselves to live , not 'cause they move And have a being but because they love ; Who when they view , think all their soules i' th' eye . Or if they touch , think it i' th' hand to lye : So doe I meet your Ayres , they have the art Of drawing all my soule into that part Which they affect , and if I chance to heare Them strook am forc'd to wish my selfe all eare . I doe not wonder that the King did * call , WILSON , ther 's more words , let 's heare them all . Such was your skill , that what the rest o' th' Court Perhaps thought long , Judicious eares thought short . Excellent Artist ! whose sweet straines devoure Time swift as they , and make dayes seem an houre . But what need more , since 't is enough to tell But this , King Charles hath heard , and lik'd them well . J. H. O. C. To that Excellent Musitian the AUTHOR . 'T IS well the Musick of the rowling Sphaeres Doth not arive to prepossesse our eares ; That they may entertaine thy Nobler Layes ; Which might embody'd Angels charme , and raise Woods into Trances . Let none that at least Hath not a Siren Templ'd in his breast , Pollute thy songs , And in whose every note A Quire of Muses playes about his throat : That may call out the soule and make it run In a Triumphant Chariot 'bove the Sun . Could others but discerne that Golden vaine Of Art , those Graces that breath in each straine Of thy composures , then they might know what ( In part ) to judge o th' Learned travaile that Teaches thy notes to command Raptures so : But by that selfe-concealing art ( we know ) Thine eyes are priviledg'd in thy frames to spye Those silken strings , that fine Embrodery . To my worthy Friend that incomparable Musitian Dr JOHN WILSON on his Book of Songs of three Parts WHy should I loade with barren praise A head so often wreath'd with Bayes : Or make the greedy Reader looke For something good besides the Book ? These dirty lines the rest will soyle . And hardly serve to be their foyle , Yet since the Author will impart Unto the gaping world his Art ; I 'le let it know what it ne're thought , What can't be learned may be bought ; Least men inestimable call It still and so not buy 't at all . Thus o're faire Structures of 't we set A Bill , this House is to be Let : Some too perhaps who yet ne're knew Great WILSON what we owe to you ; When they shall on the Title page . See Ballads first come on the Stage . Will thinke , because the word so grosse is . These songs are fit for Market Crosses : I 'le tell 'um they 're authentick grown , And Rimers now put Poets downe . And yet I will the Muses call , Apollo , and the Poets all , And bid them tell me if they e're Had better Offrings then are here , Call any Nobler ( if they durst ) Since they frequented Hibla first : Some humane , More divine ; the odds Is this , men made some , More the Gods . Thus in a day serene and cleare , Some sullen clouds fixt here and there Make angry Pheb●s mend his ray And add more luster to the day . Thus in fayre nights the Heavens are Not set with one continued starre , But here and there a patch of night Doth recompence the rest with light . Now could the trembling aire convey These sounds where Troys foundations lay ; Each scatterd stone would shew his head , Though long in ruines buryed ; And being ravisht leap to take The station which it did forsake : And thou ( Brave WILSON ) with thy hand Amphion like shouldst charming stand ; So should each higher note have powre For to erect a lofty Towre And when a deeper tone should sound , To sinck a Cellar vnder ground ; Then might I question which would tell Lowder thy Fame , Quart pot or Bell. I 've done , 't is time the Reader see The difference 'twixt Thee and Mee : I 'le only say thy sacred brow Shall not be crown'd with Laurell now , Stay then till wee together can Thy Master Crowne and Thee his Man . R. R. Cheerefull Ayres ( or Ballads ) for three voyces . CANTUS PRIMUS . Cantus Primus . J. Wilson . WWhen Troy Towne for ten years warre withstood the Greeks in manfullwise , yet did their foes increase so fast , that to resist none could suffice , Waste lye those Walls that were so good and Corne now growes where Troy Towne stood . Cantus Primus . J. Wilson . FRom the faire Lavinian Shore , I your Markets come to store , Muse not though so farr I dwell and my wares come here to sell . Such is the sacred hunger of gould then come to my pack while I cry what d'ye lack what d'ye buy for here it is to be sold . Cantus Primus . J. Wilson . WIll you buy any Honesty come away , I sell it openly by day , I bring no forced lights nor Candle to cozen you come buy and handle , This will shew the great Man good , the Tradesman where he sweares and lyes , the Lady of a Noble blood , the City Dame to rule her Eyes , You are Rich men now , come buy and then I will make you richer honest honest men . Cantus Primus . R. Johnson . FUll fathome five thy Father lyes , of his bones are Corrall made those are pearles that were his eyes , nothing of him that doth fade but doth suffer a Sea change into something rich and strange . Sea Nymphs hourly ring his knell , Hark now I heare them Ding Dong Bell Ding Dong Ding Dong Bell Cantus Primus . R. Johnson . WHere the Bee sucks there suck I , in a Cowslips Bell I lye there I couch When Owles doe cry , on the Batts Back I doe fly , after Summer merrily . Merrily Merrily shall I live now under the Blossome that hangs on the Bough Merrily Merrily shall I live now , under the Blossome that Hangs on the Bough . Cantus Primus . J. Wilson . WHen Love with unconfined wings hovers within my gates And My Divine Althea brings to whisper at my Grates . When I lye tangled in her haire , and Fetter'd in her eye , The Birds that wanton in the Ayre , Know no such Liberty . Cantus Primus . J. Wilson . HAve you any work for the Sowgelder hoe , My horne goes to high to lowe To to lowe . Have you any Piggs Calves or Colts Have you any Lambs in your holts to cut for the stone , here comes a cunning one Have you any Brauches to Spay'd or e're a fayre Mayde , that would be a Nun , come Kisse mee 't is done . Hark how my merry horne doth blow , to high to lowe To high to lowe , to lowe . Cantus Primus . R. Johnson . COme hither you that Love , and heare me sing of Joyes still growing greene Fresh and Lusty as the pride of Spring and ever blowing , Come hither youths that Blush and dare not know what is desire , and old men worse then you that Cannot blow one sparke of Fire , And with the power of my Enchanting Song Boyes shall be able men and old and ould men young . Cantus Primus . J. Wilson . YOung Thirsis lay in Phillis lap , and gazing on her eye priz'd life too Meane for such good hap and fayne the Lad would dye . When Phillis who the Force did prove of Love as well as he . Cry'd to him stay a while my Love and I will dye with thee . So did these happy Lovers dye , but with so little Paine that Both to Life immediately returne to dye againe . KAwasha comes in Majesteé , was never such a god as hee The Worthy's they were nine 't is true , and lately Arthurs Knights we Knew . He is come from a farr Cuntreé To make our nose a Chimneé a Chimneé : But now are come up of Worthies new , the Roaring Boyes Kawasha's Crew Kawasha's crew . Silanus Asse doth Leere to see , this well appointed Companeé . But if Silanus Asse should bray , 't would make them Roare and run away . A Hey a Hey a Hey for and a Hoe , a Hey for and a Hoe Wee 'le make this great Potan Drinke off Silanus Cann , Wee 'le make Sylen fall downe , and cast him in a Swoune . And when that he well drunke is returne To see our men of Ire of of all him turne him to his Munkey's from whence he came . More Insence Snuffing Puffing Smoake and Fire like fell Dragoone . Hath been burned at great Kawasha's foot , then to Sylen or Bacchus Both , or take in Iove to boote . Wherefore then yeeld or quit the field . Cantus Primus . J. Wilson . CAst your Capps and Cares away , this is the Beggers Holiday , In the world look out and see , where 's so happy a King as he , At the Crowning of our King , Thus we ever Dance and Sing : Where the Nation live so free , And so happy as doe wee : Be it Peace or be it Warre , Here at Liberty we are , Hang all Officers we cry , And the Magistrates too by , And enjoy our Ease and Rest , To the Fields wee are not Prest , Nor are When the Subsidy 's encreast , Wee are not a Penny Ceast , Nor will Call'd into the Towne , To be troubled with a Gowne . Any goe to Law , With a Begger for a Straw . All which happinesse he Braggs , He doth owe unto his Raggs . Cantus Primus . J. Wilson . DOE not feare to put thy feet , Naked in the River sweet . Think not Neute , nor Leech , nor Toade , will bite thy foote when thou hast trode : Nor let the Waters rising high , nor as thou wad'st in make thee Cry and sob , but ever live with mee , and not a wave shall trouble thee . Cantus Primus . J. Wilson . THoughts doe not vexe me while I Sleepe ; Griefe doe not doe not move mee , Smile not false hope while I weepe Shee cannot love mee , Had I been as cold and Nice , and as often turning , then as shee had I been Ice , and Shee as I now burning . Teares flow no more from my swolne eyes , Sighes doe not so oppresse mee , Stop not your Eares at my Cryes , O but release mee . Were you but as sad as I , And as full of mourning , Very griefe would make you dye , At least , leave off your scorning . WHO so complaineth gaineth ost Loves just reward . Who so resraineth paineth dyeing Sans regard , then will I make a vertue of my needing And spare no speech since words cause Loves best speeding , O you sad lines Proceeding bleeding , shew my grev'd heart's exceeding needing . Tell her My sad story , will impaire her glory , If shee smile when I am sorry . Cantus Primus . J. Wilson . COme Silent night and in thy gloomy shade hide my dispaire all those that Trade with griefe doe hate reliefe , and can think nothing faire but thy dark Mantle , in whose misty Ayre Contemning breath they grope for death Oh : come and stay , banish the light-some day , the harmes that are not seene Be but as though they had not been . Cantus Primus . J. Wilson . COme Constant Hearts that so prevaile , that ev'ry passion putts in baile , my Innocence shall dare as farr , to give the Tyrant open warre , if warm'd with pride he kindle fires Wee 'le drowne them in our chast desires : If he Assaile with Dart or Bow Wee le hide them in these hills of Snow , so shall his heart plagu'd Mourne and dye , While wee smile at his memory and Keep our Hearts our Eyes our Eares free From vaine Sighs , sad sad groanes and Tears . Cantus Primus . J. Wilson . LOve and disdaine dwells in my Mistress eyes , contending which of them shall first destroy m●e , Th'one with his restlesse flames my bosome fryes Th'other no lesse doth with his Ice annoy mee . Dearest , since these conclude that I must dye , will you not mourne at my sad Obsequie . Cantus Primus . J. Wilson . IN a season all oppressed , with sad sorrowes poore distressed , Troylous said unto his Cressed yeeld O yeeld thee sweet and stay not , O no no no no no No no no Sweet Love I may not . 2 Strife in Love is Loves uniting , These hands were not made for fighting , But for mutuall hearts delighting , Yeeld O yeeld then sweet and stay not : O No No &c. 3. Deare if you will still persever , In this No , which answers never Doe what I desire you ever . And againe say No , and spare not . O No No &c. I dare not . 4. Since nor time nor place nor plaining , Can change this word of disdaining , What is there for mee remaining , But to dye , if you gainsay not . O No No &c. I may not . CUpid thou art a wanton Boy , and heretofore mad'st Love a Toy , But in thy Raigne a Tyrant art , to Wound a Sheaperdesses heart : To make her Sigh , Swoune , Weepe , and Pale , Thus Sick yet modest will not Vaile ; But cryes out Hymen 't is your cure , For the blind Boy I 'le ne're endure . Cantus Primus . J. Wilson . THough your strangenesse sretts my heart , yet may not I Complaine , You perswade me 't is but Art , that secret Love must feigne . If another you affect , 't is but a shew t' avoyd suspect , Is this faire excusing , O no all is abusing . When another holds your hand , You sweare I have your heart : When my Rivalls close doe stand , And I stand farre apart . They enjoy you every one , Yet must I seeme your friend alone ; Is this faire excusing , O no all is abusing . ASke mee no more whether doth stray those golden Attoms of the day , for in pure Love the Heavens prepare , that powder to enrich thy hayre , Aske me no More where those starres light , that downeward shoote in dead of night , for in thine Eyes they set and there , fixed become as in their Spheare . Aske me no more where Iove bestowes when June is gone the flaming Rose , for in thy beautyes Orient deepe , all flowers as in their causes sleepe . Nor aske me more if East or West The Phoenix builds her Spicie Nest , For unto thee at last shee flies And in thy fragrand bosome dyes . CLora's false Love made Clora weepe , and by a Rivers side , Her flocks which Is 't not injustice O yee Gods to kindle my desires , And to leave She was wont to keepe neglected thus shee cry'd . Poore victory to pierce a His at so much odds , as there 's no mutuall fires . Heart that was a tender one , but Cowardize to spare your dart from his that was a stone . First part . As shee thus mourn'd the teares that fell Downe from her Love-sick eyes Did in the Waters dropp and swell , And into bubbles rise . Second Part. Wherein her blubber'd face appeares , Now out alas said shee , How doe I melt away in teares , For him that Loves not mee . First Part. Yet as I lessen Multiplie , But in lesse forme appeare , Thus doe I languish from mine eye , And grow new in my teare . Breake not the Christall circles mee Sweet streames by your fayre side , My Love perhapps may walking bee , And I may be espied . Second Part. And thus in little drawne and drest In a sad teares attire , May force such passions from his breast , Shall equall my desire . ILove ( alas ) but cannot shew it I keep a fire that burnes within Rake't up in Embers Ah could shee know it , I might perhaps be Lov'd agen , For a true Love may Justly call for friendship Love reciprocall . Some Gentle Courteous winde betray mee A Sigh , by whispering in her Eare , Or let a piteous shower convey mee And drop into her breast a teare , Or two or more , the hardest flint By often dropps receives a dint . Shall I then vexe my heart and rend it That is allready too too weake ; No no they say Lovers may send it By wrighting what they cannot speake , Goe then my Muse and let this verse Bring back my life or else my Hearse . IF I dye , be this my will , Let my spirit serve thee still , and desire if not fulfill Thy whole pleasure so approving , Death is not the end of Loving . Let the Earth my Body have whence it sprung , there be my grave , Only the remembrance Have of my Image ; Let death never , me from thy Acquaintance sever The last Breath my Tongue shall move , be the Ayrie forme of Love , And despight of death approve ( lifes privation thus defying ) if not dead I love thee dying . Cantus Primus . J. Wilson . GReedy Lover pause a while , and remember that a Smile heretofore would have made thy hopes a feast , which is more since thy dyet was incr●ast , then both Looks and Language too , or the face it selfe can doe such a province Is my Hand as if it thou couldst command heretofore there thy lipps would Seem to dwell which is more ever since they sped so well , then they can be brought to Doe , by my neck and bosome too . If the center of my breast , a dominion unpossest heretofore may thy wandring thought suffice seeke no more , and my heart shall Be thy prize , so thou Keep above the Line , all the Hemispheare is thine . If the flames of love were pure , Which by Oath thou didst assure Here-to-fore , Gold that goes into the cleere shines the more . When it leaves agen the fire , Let not then those looks of thine Blemish what they should refine . I have cast into the fire Almost all thou could'st desire Here-to-fore , But I see thou art to crave More and more ; Should I cast in all I have , So that were I ne're so free , Thou would'st burn , though not for mee . THine eyes to mee like Sunnes appeare or brighter starres their light which Makes it Summer all the yeare , Or else a day of Night . But truely I doe Think they are but eyes , and neither Sunne nor Starre . Cantus Primus . J. Wilson . AWake Awake the Morne will never rise , 'till shee can dresse her Beauties at thine eyes . The Larke forsakes her watry nest and mounting Shakes her dewy wings taking thy window for the East , and as shee Climbes alost shee sings , Awake awake the Morne will never rise 'till shee Can dresse her Bauties at thine eyes . The Merchant bowes unto the Sea-mans Starre , The Plow-man from the Soone his Season takes , Only the Lover wonders what they are who seeke for light before his Mistres wakes . Awake awake the Morne will never rise , 'till shee can dresse her beauties at thine eyes . Cantus Primus . J. Wilson . I Would have thee Merry , Laugh , and Smile , and then look grave and sad , In ev'ry humour but a while make Love as 't is that's Mad , I would have thy dresse in Severall shapes , like Proteus carv'd , not he , in humour a meer Jack-an-apes , then a grave Monkey be . Cantus Primus . J. Wilson . IN The merry Month of May , On a Morne by breake of day forth I Walked the woods so wide , when as May was in her pride , there I spyed all alone Pbilliday with Coridon . 2. Much a doe there was god wot , He could Love but shee could not , His Love Hee said was ever true , Nor was mine e're false to you . He said he had Lov'd her long , Shee said Love should have no wrong , 3. Coridon would Kisse her then , Shee said Maids must kisse no men 'Till they kist for good and all , Then Shee made the Shepheards call : All the godds to witnesse footh Ne're was lov'd a fairer youth . 4. Then with many a pretty Oath As yea and nay and faith and troath , Such as silly Sheapheards use When they will not Love abuse , Love that had been long deluded , Was with kisses sweet concluded : And Philliday with Garlands gay Was crown'd the Lady of the May . FAine would I Cloris whom my heart adores , longer a while between thine Armes remaine , But loe the Jealous morne Her Rosy doores to Spight mee opes and brings the day againe . Farewell farewell Cloris 't is time I Dy'de , the Night departs yet still my woes abide . DEere give mee a thousand kisses pay the dept thy Lipps doe owe Let the number of those Blisses to ten thousand thousand grow , 'till to infinites they Flow . Let the sweet perfum'd treasure of thy breath my Spirits fill , enjoying endlesse pleasures , breaths rebreathing let us still , breathe one Breath , and wish one will . Cantus Primus . J. Wilson . LAwne as white as driven Snow , Cypresse black as ere was Crow , Gloves as sweet as Damaske Roses , Maskes for Faces and for Noses , Bugle Braceletts Necklace Amber , Persumes for a Ladyes Chamber , Golden Coyses and stomachers for my Ladds , for To give their Deer's Pinns and Poting sticks Pinns And poting sticks of steele what Maids lack what What from head to heele , what Come buy of mee come , Come buy come buy , buy Ladds or else your Lasses cry come buy . Cantus Primus . J. Wilson . GOE weather-beaten thoughts with storme of teares that issue From your selfe conceived sorrow , prize her hard heart , presse her unwilling eares to Heare my nights unrest my grieving Morrow . Tell her the harbour where your Selves doe dwell , is my poore heart whereon you beate so sore , as does the clapper on a restles bell Ring for the soules that wee shall see no more . And sighs make knowne my will is made to her , to her that hath my heart for Legacy . Then burst your swellings home And in smoake vade , to be a witnesse to the standers by , that they may testify How much I Lov'd her , and shee repent that all this never mov'd her . Cantus Primus . J. Wilson . GOE restlesse thoughts fly from your Masters breast , and seeke out her that Causeth thus my griefe , presse to her heart , letting it never rest untill from her you bring with You reliefe . Tell her you come from one , that 's deadly sick a bleeding heart Whose wounds cannot be healed by any others pollicy or witt , but by a Love which hath been long concealed , Pitty perchance may move this sweet effect , and change her minde into some better moode . Pray heavens her favour So on you reflect , that in your suit you may be understood . Then must you Bridle your unruly tongue , and speake her praises and forget your wrong . Cantus Primus . J. Wilson . IF my Lady bid beginne , Shall I say No 't is a sinne ? If shee bidd mee Kisse and play , Shall I shrinke ? Cold Foole away . If Shee clap my Cheekes and spye little Cupids in my eye gripe my hand and Stroake my haire , shall I like a faint heart feare . No , no , no , let those that Lye in dismall dungeons and would dye , dispaire and feare , Let those that Cry they are forsaken and would flye , quit their fortunes mine Are free , Hope makes mee Hardy , so does Shee . Cantus Primus . J. Wilson . TEll mee where the beauty lyes in my Mistresse , or mine eyes , is shee fayre I made her so , Beauty doth from likeing grow . Be shee fayrer whiter than Venus Doves or Leda's Swanne , What 's that Beauty if neglected , seen of all , of None respected . Then let my Mistresse that I love her , think her fayre Cause I approve Her . Cantus Primus . J. Wilson . BOast not blind boy that I 'me thy prize , 't was not thy Dart but those that Feather'd with her eyes first strooke my heart . Th'ill tuter'd shafts and Childish Bow , on faintly loving hearts bestowe . I Vaunt my flame and dare desye Those Bugbeare fires , Which only serve to terrify Fooles fond desires : Hoard up for such thy painted flame , As tremble when they heare thy name . My heart thy fire nor shafts could pierce , But holy flashes , Swifter then lightning and more fierce , Burnt mine to ashes ; Where lett them sleepe in unknown rest , Since Fate concludes their Urne her breast . COme thou Father of the Spring : Come Zephirus , and while we sing Spread thy Nectar-dewed wings over all this place below , that from hence such Sweet may grow , Hybla shall envy at the shew , that the Nymphs and higher Powers may cast their eyes out at their Bowers , and descend to pluck thy Flowers , Whence a rich perfume shall rise , to swell the Ayre and pierce the Skies Sweeter then a Sacrifice . Cantus Primus . J. Wilson . SIr this my little Mistresse here , did ne're pretend to Peters Chaire , nor No Benefice shee ever sold , nor Pardon , nor dispence for Gold , shee Any Triple Crowne did weare , and yet shee is a Pope . No Kings her Scarcely is a quarter old , and yet shee is a Pope . Feet did ever Kisse , or had worse looks from Her then this . Nor doth shee ever Hope , to Saint men with the Rope , and yet shee is a Pope . A female Pope , you 'l say a second Ioane , but sure this is Pope Innocent or none . Cantus Primus . N. Lanneir . NO No I tell thee no , Though from thee I Must goe , Yet my Heart saies not so . It swears by Stella's eyes , in whose darting surprize It in Loves fetters lies . It swears by those Roses and Lillies so White , And those Rubies so Bright , Ne're to part ne're to part from my Deare deare delight . Cantus Primus . R. Johnson . FOr ever let thy heavenly Tapers on the Married brightly shine And never may un-sacred vapours drowne those glorious flames of thine . O Hymen That their Hands , their Hands dost joyne untill thy Rayes to darknesse turne , With thy high Praise , with thy high praise , our hearts shall burne , our Hearts shall burne . Cantus Primus . J. Wilson . FLy hence shadowes that doe Keepe watchfull sorrowes Charm'd in sleepe , Though the eyes be overtaken yet the heart doth ever waken , thoughts charm'd Up in busy snares of Continuall toyles and cares , Love and griefes are so exprest , That they rather sigh then rest . Fly hence shadowes that doe keepe watchfull Sorrows charm'd in sleepe , Watchfull sorrows charm'd in sleepe . Cantus Primus . J. Wilson . SInce Love hath in thine and mine Eye Kindled a holy flame , What Pitty 't were to let it dye , what sinne to quench the same . The starres that seeme extinct by day , disclose their flames at night , and in a Subtile sence convey their Loves in beames of light . 3. So when the Jealous Eye and Eare , Are shut or turn'd a side : Our tongues , our Eyes may talke nor feare The being heard or spy'd . 4. What though our bodies cannot meete , Loves fuell's more divine , The fixt starres by their twinkling greete , And yet they never joyne . 5. False Meteors that doe change their place , Though they seem fair and bright , Yet when they covet to embrace , Fall downe and loose their light . 6. If thou perceive thy flame decay , Come light thine Eyes at mine : And when I feele mine fade away , I 'le take new fire from thine . 7. Thus while wee shall preserve from wast , The flame of our desires , No Vestall shall maintaine more chast , Or more Immortall fires . SInce Love hath brought thee , and I have caught thee here in this bower And at this Hower , Nor shall thy faynings , thy coy disdaynings thy causelesse Chidings , thy short abidings , thy crafty smilings thy quaint beguilings , Nor those thy struglings , with all thy juglings shall make mee Leave thee No No thou shalt no more deceive mee . 2. See'st thou that fountaine , Under that Mountaine , Wat'ring those vallyes , Along whose allyes , Thou once did'st fly mee , when I did spye thee , Even in this Atire , Held by a Satyre : Under that Sapling , In a close grapling , When I did threat him , and after beat him , And yet would'st leave mee , No , No , thou shalt no more deceive mee . 3. Then cease thy panting , And be not wanting , In those sweet graces , and deare embraces , Wherewith thou bindest , all that thou mindest , And fall a Billing , 'till I be willing , So to repay thee , that which may stay thee , And so delight thee , that to requite mee , Thou ne're wilt leave mee , Nor ever offer to deceive mee . YOu Heraulds of my Mistresse heart , beauties fairest jewell , to mee her Passions force impart , that I may know if Shee or no , in-tendeth to bee Cruell , your silence can with art expresse , the heart 's unfeined story When modest tongues feare to confesse then daring eyes can best devise enchanting O-ra-to-ry . Cantus Primus . J. Wilson . WHy thinkst thou Foole thy Beauties Rayes should flame my colder Heart when thy disdaine shall sev'rall wayes such peircing blasts impart seest not those Beames that guild the day , though they be hot and fierce t' have neither heate Nor power to stay , when windes themselves displerce , So though thine Eye heates my desire , yet know thy coy disdaine falls like a storme on That young fire , and blowes mee coole againe . Cantus Primus . J. Wilson . WHen the cleer Sunn with his beams hot , Scorched the Grasse in Meade and Mountaine , Strephon the Sheapheard now forgot , late sitting by a Christall fountaine under a spreading Beeches shade , for Phyllis eare this Ditty made ; Farewell farewell false and untrue Love , light as the winde Soon chang'd for new love . So long as I was in your sight I Was your life , your heart , your treasure , and with fain'd eyes you moan'd and sigh'd As in flame burning past all measure , three dayes endur'd this love to mee , and It was lost in other three . Farewell farewell &c. Soon as another Swayne you Saw , who may by love or likeing feigned , you 'gan from mee your love withdraw , and soon my place he had obtained . Then came a third your love to Win , and wee were out and he was in . Farewell &c. Doubtlesse you bear your Selfe in hand , because of loves you breed such plenty , to fill with new loves All the Land , and all the World if it were empty , But O you doe your selfe be-guile , because they live so short a while , Farewell farewell &c. Cantus Primus . J. Wilson . WHat would any man desire ? is he cold ? then here 's a fire Is he hot ? shee 'l gently scoole him 'till he finde that heat does coole him , Is he Sad ? then here 's a pleasure , is hee poore ? then here 's a treasure . Loves he Musick ? Here 's the choice of all sweet sounds in her sweet voyce . Does he hunger , heer 's a Feast to which a God might bee a guest , and to those Viands if hee thirst , heer 's Nectar for him , since the first of men that was for sinne a deptor , never any Tasted better . Heer 's all compleat from head to heele , to heare , to see , tast Smell or feele . Cantus Primus . J. Wilson . THou that excellest and sweeter smellest then budding Roses yet Cruelly killest , others sit billing , Loves Nectar spilling , why shouldst thou then to mee Prove so unwilling , thy looks so smiling , all hearts beguiling Kindled the fire of my desire . 2. Then be not cruell , my Loves chiefe Jewell , Quench the flames thou hast made , or give them fewell , All those that knew mee , when they shall view mee , With death rewarded , will curse her that slew mee . O let relenting , and swift repenting , From danger free , both thee and mee . 3. Then wee 'l lye gasping , Arme in arme clasping , Of Loves Sweets that have past each others asking , Our hearts united , this way delighted , Shall not with needlesse feare , no more be frighted . But with sweet Kisses , multiply blisses , Untill wee prove , one soule in Love . I Sweare by Muskadell , that I doe Love thee , well and more then I can Tell , by the white Clarret and Sack , I doe love thy Black black black , I doe Love thy black black black . 2 So lovely and so fayre Ore shaddow'd with thy hayre , So nimble just like haire , All these set mee on loves rack , For thy sweeter Black black black . 3. No goddesse 'mongst them all , So slender and so tall , And gracefull too withall , Which makes my sinews to Crack , For thy dainty Black black black . 4. Thy kinde and loving Eye , When first I did Espye , Our loves it did descrye , Dumb speaking what d'yee lack , Mine answered thy Black black black . FOndnesse of man to love a shee , were beauties Image on her Face so carv'd by Im-mor-ta-li-ty , as en-vious time cannot disgrace . Who shall weigh a Lovers paine , fain'd smiles a while his hopes may steere but soon reduced by sad disdaine to the first principles of feare . Then farewell fayrest ne're will I , Pursue uncertain blisses more : Who sayles by womans constancy , Shipwracks his Love on every shore . DOwne Be still you Seas , water your dread master please , Downe downe I say or be silent as the day , you that fling and roare a loft Whistling winds be still and soft , not an Angry look let fly , you proud Mountains Fall and dye . Tumble no more , nor kick nor Roare , nor trouble her Keele to make her reele , but safe from Surges , Rocks and Sand , Kisse her and Stroake her , and set her a Land . Cantus Primus . J. Wilson . YOu say you love mee , nay can sweare it too , but stay Sir , 'T will not doe , I know you keepe your Oathes , just as you weare your Cloaths , while new and fresh in fashion , but once growne old you lay them by , forgot like words you speake in passion I 'le not believe you I. Cantus Primus . J. Wilson . HEnce with this wedlock Chaine and Smart I 'le not have People laugh at me for wearing shackles on my heart , and live engag'd that might live Free , I 'le keep my Freedome all I can , and never live a Mar-ri-ed man You that have servile mindes may marry and con-fine your selves to one I will not from my nature vary , which like a thousand yet Love none But keep my freedome all I can , and never live a Married man . Cantus Primus . J. Wilson . SO have I seene a Silver Swann , as in a watry looking Glasse , viewing her whi-ter forme and then , Courting her Selfe with lovely grace . As now shee doth her selfe her selfe admire Being at once the fu-ell and the fire . Cantus Primus . J. Wilson . VIew'st thou that poore penurious payre of Lovers how they Bill , Instructed not by wanton faire , but by a Mutuall will . Such needlesse aydes these Wretches scorne , they finde out hid desires , which in each others minde being borne begets them to new fires . Cantus Primus . J. Wilson . IF I must tell you what I love before my heart shall bow to any 'T is not the Black that I approve , nor yet the Browne ador'd by many The first is Farr from all de-light , 't is beauties foe and not com-plexion , The Embleme Of sad care and night , still moveing horror not affection . Cantus Primus . J. Wilson . WHen on mine eyes her eyes first shone , I all amazed steadily Gazed , and shee to make mee more amazed so caught so wove foure eyes in one as Who had with advizement seen us would have admir'd Loves equall force between us , But treason in those friendlike eyes , my heart first charming and then disdaining , so charm'd it e're it dreamt of Harming , as at her mercy now it Lyes and shewes me to my endlesse smart , shee lov'd but with her eyes I with my heart . Cantus Primus . J. Wilson . BE not thou so foolish nice , as to bee in-vi-ted twice What should Woemen more incite then their own sweet Appetite , shall Savage things more Freedome have , then Nature unto Woemen gave . The Swan the Turtle , and the Sparrow , Bill a while then take the Marrow ; They Bill and Kisse , what Then they doe , Come Bill and Kisse and I 'le shew you . Cantus Primus . J. Wilson . COme I faint thy tedious stay doubles each hower of the Day , the Nimble hast of winged love , makes aged time not seem to move . Did not the night , and then the light , instruct my sight , I should forget the Sunn , For-get his flight . Shew not the drooping Marigold , whose Leaves like dolefull Armes doe Fold , my longing nothing can ex-plaine , but Soule and Body rent in twaine . Did I not Moane , and sigh and groane , and talke alone , I might believe my Soule from home were gone . Cantus Primus . J. Wilson . GOd Lyeus ever young , ever Honour'd ever sung , stain'd with Blood of lusty Grapes , in a thousand lusty shapes . Daunce upon the Mazers brim , in the crimson Liquor swim , from thy plenteous hand Divine , let a River run with wine , God of mirth let this day heere , enter neither care nor Feare , en-ter neither care nor feare . Cantus Primus . J. Wilson . NOt Roses coucht within a Lilly bed , are those commixtures That depaint thy Face , nor yet the white , which silvers Hyem's head , Mixt with the dewy Mornings purple grace ; But thou whose fayre my Senses captive led , whom I erst Fondly deem'd of heavenly race , hast from my guiltlesse Blood which thou hast Shed , and envies palenesse got thy white and Red . Cantus Primus . J. Wilson . SO many Loves have I neglected , whose good parts might move Mee , that now I am of all re-ject-ed , there is none will Love mee . Why is Mayden heat so coy , it Freezeth when it burneth , loosing what it Might enjoy and having lost it mourneth . Cantus Primus . J. Wilson . NOw the Lu-sty Spring is seen , greene , yellow , gaudy blue , daintily in-vites the view on ev'ry Bush on ev'ry greene , Roses blushing as they blowe And inviting men to pull , Lillies whiter then the Snow , Woodbines With sweet hony full . All Loves Emblemes , and all cry Ladyes if not Plucks you dye . Cantus Primus . J. Wilson . WHerefore peep'st thou envious day , Wee can Kisse without thee , Lovers hate that golden ray , that thou bear'st about thee . Go and give them Light that sorrow , or the Saylor flying , our Embraces need no Morrow Nor our pleasures Eying . 2. Wee shall curse thy curious Eye , For our soon betraying , And condemne thee for a spye , If thou see us playing . Get thee gone and Lend thy flashes , Where there 's need of lending . Our affections are not ashes . Nor our Kisses ending . 3. Were wee cold or wither'd heere , Wee should wish thee by us , Or but one another feare , Then thou should'st not fly us . Wee are young thou mar'st our pleasure , Goe to Sea and slumber , Darknesse only gives us leasure , Our stolne joyes to number . TUrne Turne , turne thy beautious face away , how pale and sickly looks the Day in emulation of thy brighter Beames . O envious light fly fly begone Come Night and joyne two breasts in one , when what Love does we will re-peate in dreames . Yet thine eyes open , who can day hence fright Let but their Lidds fall and it will be night . Cantus Primus . J. Wilson . WHen I behold my Mistres face , where beauty hath her dwell-ing place , And see those seeing starres her eyes , In whom Loves fire for ever lyes . And heare her witty Charming words , her sweet Tongue to mine Eare affords Mee thinks he wants Wit , Eares , and Eyes , whom Love makes not Idolatrize . Cantus Primus . J. Wilson . MY Love and I for Kisses plaid shee would keepe stakes I was content , but when I wonn shee would be paid , this made mee Aske her what shee meant . Nay since I see quoth shee I see quoth Shee your wrangling vaine , take your own Kisses and I 'le take mine a-gaine . IN a vale with flowrets spangled , To the Nymph that had intangled , Strephon meeting her thus lained And to her his Bosome Chained , Tarry O tarry faire at the sigh's at the prayre of who thy deare eyes adm'res Hark how each thing wee see doe all discourse of shee , so thy beauty all Inspires . The Birds thy praises sing smooth windes the blessing acknowledge to thy breath Th'earth sayes thou art their spring , each flower confessing their sent and Colour was Of their sweet breathing . Of thy be-queathing . Thus sung hee , but the Nymph fled him , Him and all his praises scorning , Wherefore as his anger led him To dispraise his praises turning , Stay cruell stay he cryes , And let thy Eares and Eyes , Of thy faults the Records bee . And those that prais'd thee late , See how thy Scornes they hate . In their due remorce of mee . Harke the Birds cry like th'Owle , th'art all their wonder , The windes would blow thee hence thy absence hasting , Th'earth sayes thy frownes are but a dartlesse thunder , Flowers smile , nor feare thy frosty bosomes blasting . FINIS . Notes, typically marginal, from the original text Notes for div A66559e-4800 * The old Rhetorick Schole now assigned for the Musick lecture . Notes for div A66559e-5470 * When some of these Ayres were presented to him by Dr Wilson Mr Low , and others .