niuiiimiiiiiu liiuunut FROM THE LIBRARY OF REV LOUIS FITZGERALD BENSON. D. D. BEQUEATHED BY HIM TO THE LIBRARY OF PRINCETON THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY he lor. SHORTER ELIZABETHAN POEMS *AN ENGLISH [ 1937 SHORTER ELIZABETHAN POEMS WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY A. H. BULL EN 1 NEW YORK E. P. DUTTON AND CO. PUBLISHERS' NOTE The texts contained in the present volume are re- printed with very slight alterations from the English Garner issued in eight volumes (1877-1S90, London, 8vo) by Professor Arber, whose name is sufficient guarantee for the accurate collation of the texts with the rare originals, the old spelling being in most cases carefully modernised. The contents of the original Garner have been rearranged and now for the first time classified, under the general editorial supervision of Mr. Thomas Seccombe. Certain lacunae have been filled by the interpolation of fresh matter. The Introductions are wholly new and have been written specially for this issue. Edinburgh : T. and A. CoNSTAnLK, Printers to His Majesty CONTENTS Psalms, Sonnets, and Songs of Sadness and Piety (1588). By William Byrd, one of the gentlemen of the Queen's Majesty's honorable Chapel, ...... 1 *William Byrd's Songs of Sundrie Natures (1589), ... 25 *William Byrd's Second Book of Songs and Sonnets (161 1), . 51 Musica Transalpina (Madrigals chosen out of divers excellent Authors), 1588. Edited by Nicholas Yonge, ... 59 John Dowland's First Book of Songs or Airs, 1597, ... 79 John Dowland's Second Book of Songs or Airs, 1600, . . . 101 John Dowland's Third and Last Book of Songs or Airs, 1603, . 117 John Dowland's A Pilgrim's Solace, 1612, 131 John Wilbye's First Set of Madrigals, 1598, 145 The Triumphs of Oriana. Edited by Thomas Morley, 1601, . 153 Thomas Campion's A Book of Airs, 1601 (to music by Campion and Rosseter), 165 Thomas Campion's Two Books of Airs [161 3], .... 193 Thomas Campion's Third and Fourth Books of Airs [1617-18], . 225 Richard Alison's An Hour's Recreation in Music, 1606, . . 261 Love Posies of the Sixteenth Century [from Harleian Manu- script 6910], 1596, 269 Love's Garland : or Posies for Rings, Handkerchers, and Gloves; and such pretty Tokens that Lovers send their Loves, 1624, 279 Newly inserted in the Garner. VI Shorter Elizabethan Poems Cupid's Posies (1674), 291 Posies for Rings, or Mottoes fit for Presents. Collected by W. P., 1677 307 Single Poems. Conceipt begotten by the Eyes (Sir Walter Raleigh), . What cunning can express (Edward de Vere, Earl of Oxford), Love in my bosom like a bee (Thomas Lodge), Phillada flouts me (Anonymous), . The Hue and Cry after Cupid (Ben Jonson), King Oberon's Apparel (Sir Simeon Steward), I loved a lass, a fair one ! (George Wither), . The Chronicle (Abraham Cowley), Sitting and drinking in the chair made out of the relics o Sir Francis Drake's ship (Abraham Cowley), The Wish (Abraham Cowley), .... Bermudas (Andrew Marvell), .... The Garden (Andrew Marvell), .... A Dialogue between the Resolved Soul and Created Pleasure (Andrew Marvell), .... Love still has something of the sea (Sir Charles Sedley), Hears not, my Phillis ! how the birds (Sir Charles Sedley), Phillis, men say that all my vows (Sir Charles Sedley), Phillis is my only joy (Sir Charles Sedley), . Winter (Charles Cotton), 312 314 316 3i8 321 325 327 331 335 338 340 342 345 348 349 35° 35o 35i INTRODUCTION When Elizabeth, of pious memory, entered on her glorious reign the prospects of English poetry were gloomy indeed. In 1557, the year before her accession, Tottel 's Miscellany had been published ; but Wyatt and Surrey, the chief contributors to that anthology, had long been dead. In Scotland there was one writer, Alexander Scott, who showed himself a not unworthy successor to Wyatt, but in the south the Muses were badly served. William Blake, deploring the evil state into which poetry had fallen in the second half of the eighteenth century, observed mournfully — ' The languid strings do scarcely move : The sound is forced, the notes are few.' But Blake lived to see the return of the golden age ; and the blank songless days of Elizabeth's early reign were to be succeeded by a joyous season of unexampled fecundity. The first tentative efforts of the Elizabethans are in- teresting to inquisitive students, but by ordinary readers have been relegated to that dim and derided limbo of literature where poetasters flutter and twitter (as bats in a cave) like the ghosts of Penelope's suitors in Homer. 'Flourishing' George Gascoigne, whose 'plentiful vein' was commended by Puttenham ; Tom Churchyard, 'that sang so long until quite hoarse he grew ' ; George Turberville and Barnabe Googe, writers of 'eglogs,' epitaphs, sonnets, viii Shorter Elizabethan Poems etc. ; — these and many more must, in the words of Sir Thomas Browne, 'be content to be as though they had not been.' A boke of very pleasaunte sonettes and storyes in myter, arranged by Clement Robinson, was licensed for publica- tion in 1566, but no copy has been preserved. Its loss is to be regretted, for it would be interesting to know how many of the poems included in A Handefull of pleasant delites, the anthology issued by Robinson in 1584, are to be found in the earlier collection. If Lady Greensleaves' and the wooing-song, ' Maid, will ye love me, yea or no?' were written as early as 1566, there was at least one poet in that unpoetical age who had a genuine lyrical gift. Another light-handed lyrist was John Harington (flor. 1 540- 1 578), father of the witty Rabelaisian Sir John Harington. It is hard to believe — but the fact is in- disputable — that his verses to Isabella Markham are pre- served in a MS. dated 1564. Take the first of the three stanzas : — 'Whence comes my love? O, heart disclose : 'Tvvas from cheeks that shame the rose, From lips that spoil the ruby's praise, From eyes that mock the diamond's blaze. Whence come my woes ? as freely own : Ah me ! 'twas from a heart of stone.' In the absence of positive proof one would ridicule the suggestion that this stanza could have been composed as early as 1564. 1 Carew might have written it in the days of Charles I. The Paradyse of Daynty Devises, 1576, proved a very 1 It must have been written at least ten years earlier : John Harington married Isabella Markham in 1554. Introduction ix popular anthology, passing through eight editions ; but it offers little of interest or value. Nor is better fare provided in Thomas Procter's anthology, A Gorgious Gallery of Gallant Inventions, 1578. In fact it is not until we reach The Phoenix Nest, 1593, that we find an anthology contain- ing lyrical poetry of really high merit, and even in this collection much of the verse is of poor quality. England's Helicon, 1600 (ed. 2, with additions, 1614) would be of sweetness all compact if some of Bartholomew Yonge's tiresome contributions were omitted ; and Davison's Poetical Rapsody, 1602 (reprinted with additions in 1608, with fresh additions in 161 1 and 162 1), though the standard of excellence is not quite so high as in England's Helicon, is even more valuable, since it preserves many charming poems that had not previously found their way into print. If only the list of first lines had been preserved we could restore England's Helicon, almost in its entirety, from printed books ; but much good verse would have been lost if Davison's Rapsody had perished. The publication of Spenser's Shepheardes Calender in the winter of 1579 was an event of capital importance in the history of English poetry. Immediately the supremacy of the new poet was recognised by all discerning spirits. * He may well wear the garland,' wrote Webbe in his Discourse of English Poetrie (1586), 'and step before the best of all English poets that I have seen or heard.' Sidney had no liking for the ' old rustic language,' but found in the Calender ' much poetry well worthy the reading.' Among Spenser's intimate friends were Sidney, Ralegh, and Dyer, all true poets and men of wide culture, well versed in the classics, and deeply influenced by the literature of France x Shorter Elizabethan Poems and Italy. After the appearance of The Shepheardes Calender, English poetry shows a marked improvement. Spenser, though he had still much to learn, had much to teach. Self-respecting writers, with the example of the Calender before them, were not content to plod along in the wake of Churchyard and Gascoigne. A glimpse of fairer pastures, of ampler skies, had been afforded to them ; and inspired by Spenser they took heart of grace. Towards the close of the sixteenth century, the cultivation of music contributed largely to the improvement of lyrical poetry. A certain Thomas Whithorn in 1571 had published Songes of three, fower and five partes, but he was an ignorant practitioner, and both the music and the verse of his collec- tion have been denounced as 'truly barbarous.' In 1588 1 appeared the first English song-book of the famous composer William Byrd — Psalmes, Sonets, and Songs. It is here reprinted, with his two other song-books, Songs of Sundrie Natures, 1589, and Psalmes, Songs, and Sonets, 161 1. Born about 1538, Byrd was organist of Lincoln Cathedral from 1 563 to 1569, and was appointed on 22nd February 1569- 1570 Gentleman of the Chapel Royal. He survived till 1623. Though he shows a marked fondness (particularly in his latest song-book) for old-fashioned moral verses, his taste was fairly catholic. In many cases it is impossible to discover the authors of the poems set by Byrd. Noble- men and gentlemen in Elizabeth's days wrote verse for their own amusement, but, whether from affectation or fear of criticism, did not care to be known as poets. Puttenham, writing in 1 589, observed : — ' And in her Maiesties time that now is are sprong up an other crew of Courtly makers, 1 It had been entered in the Stationers' Register, 6th November 1587. Introduction xi Noblemen and Gentlemen of her Maiesties owne servauntes, who have written excellently well as it would appeare if their doings could be found out and made publicke with the rest.' Early in the next century, Michael Drayton in his 'Epistle to Henry Reynolds/ referred contemptuously to writers who would not let their poetry be printed : — 'For such whose poems, be they ne'er so rare, In private chambers that encloistered are, And by transcription daintily must go As though the world unworthy were to know Their rich composures, let those men that keep These wondrous relics in their judgment deep And cry them up so, 1 let such pieces be Spoke of by those that shall come after me ; I pass not for them.' On the other hand, Drayton's very learned friend Selden, who wrote the annotations to the Polyolbion, cordially sympathised with these shy votaries of the Muses. In his delightful Table-Talk he declared — ' 'Tis ridiculous for a lord to print verses ; 'tis well enough to make them to please him- self, but to make them public is foolish.' Whatever be the explanation, there can be no doubt of the fact that in the days of Elizabeth and James I. not a few noblemen and gentlemen who could have won literary fame, preferred that their poetry should remain unpublished or should be issued anonymously. The old song-books have preserved many charming poems by these anonymous 'Courtly makers.' 1 I suspect that Drayton is reflecting particularly on Donne, whose poems were widely circulated in MS. At one time Donne seems to have contemplated issuing a limited edition of his poems, ' not for much public view, but at mine cost, a few copies' (see E. K. Chambers's bibliographical note in ' Muses' Library' edition of Donne, vol. I. pp. xxxvi.-vii); but the scheme was abandoned. His Muse had not always been strait-laced; and Ben Jonson told Drummond that Donne 'since he was made Doctor repenteth highly and seeketh to destroy all his poems. ' xii Shorter Elizabethan Poems The first poem in Byrd's earliest collection — ' I jcy not in no Earthly Bliss' (p. 5) is of unknown authorship. It may have been written in imitation of ' My Mind to me a Kingdom is' (p. 8), an oft-quoted poem which has been attributed on good authority to Sir Edward Dyer (see Dyer's Writings, ed. Grosart, in Miscellanies of the Fuller Worthies Library). Of unknown authorship, too, are the delightful songs ' Tho' Amaryllis dance in green' (which was afterwards included in England's Helicon) and ' Who likes to love let him take heed.' To the eccentric Earl of Oxford, who was both a poet and a patron of poets, have been assigned, on early MS. authority (see his Poems in Grosart's Miscellanies of the Fuller Worthies Library) the stanzas 'If women could be fair and never fond ' (p. 10); but no author has been found for ' What pleasure have great princes' (p. n), one of the choicest of old pastoral songs. The vigorous invective against Love — ' Farewell, false Love, the oracle of lies' (p. 14) — has been recently found by Mr. Bertram Dobell in a sixteenth-century MS. commonplace book, where it is attributed to Sir Walter Ralegh and is stated to have been written as a reply to a poem by Sir Thomas Heneage, who in 1589 succeeded Sir Christopher Hatton as Vice-Chamberlain of the Queen's household. In the same MS. Mr. Dobell found the quaint verses beginning ' In fields abroad where trumpets shrill do sound' (p. 13), but no author's name was given. It would be pleasant to know who wrote the fine poem ' The Match that's made for just and true respects' (p. 15), which re- minds me of Robert Greene at his best. Mr. Warwick Bond has claimed for John Lyly some of the poems in Byrd's Songs of Sundrie Natures ; but Mr. Bond's zeal in cc llecting Introduction xiii a quantity of anonymous verse (excellent, indifferent, and execrable)— from song-books, entertainments, anthologies, and MSS. — and fathering it all on the author of Euphues, has surely outrun his discretion. 1 Some of the best poems in these Songs of Sundrie Natures were afterwards included in England's Helicon, The Christmas song, 'From Virgin's womb this day did spring' (p. 43), had appeared in the Paradyse of Daynty Devises, where it was ascribed to Francis Kinwelmersh (or Kindlemarsh), an Essex gentle- man who entered Gray's Inn in 1557, and was a friend of George Gascoigne. It has a somewhat antiquated appear- ance among the brisker measures of later Elizabethan lyrists. ' O dear Life, when may it be ' (p. 43), is by Sir Philip Sidney. In Byrd's 161 1 collection the poetry is not up to the standard maintained in his earlier volumes. He seems in his old age to have preferred the bald moralising verses that had been popular in his young days. The first piece, 1 The Eagle's force,' etc. (p. 54), is found in Churchyard's Legend of Shore's Wife, but has been claimed for Henry VIII. Sir John Harington, in a letter 2 to Henry, Prince of Wales 1 Let me hasten to add, that for Mr. Bond's editorial work on Lyly I have the highest admiration. His edition (Lyly's Works, 3 vols., 1903) is definitive, and he has laid all students under a deep debt of gratitude. 2 As the passage is interesting I give it in full : — ' As I have thus given your Highnesse a short ensample of royal poetrie, I will not in haste forsake the matter and descend from high to low ; but will now venture to send to your readinge a special verse of King Henry the Eight when he conceived love for Anna Bulleign. And hereof I entertain no doubt of the author ; for if I had no better reason than the rhyme, it were sufficient to think that no other than suche a King could write such a sonnet ; but of this my father oft gave me good assurance, who was in his household. This sonnet was sung to the lady at his commaundment, and here followeth.' The verses are of small account; in his commendation of them Harington writes rather as a courtier than as a critic. Byrd's 1588 and 161 1 volumes are now reprinted for the first time. xiv Shorter Elizabethan Poems {Nugce Antique, i. 387), encloses the stanza as 'a special verse of King Henry the Eighth when he conceived love for Anna Bulleign.' Ilarington had been assured of its genuineness by his father, who had been in Henry Vlll.'s household ; but in spite of this assurance I believe it to be Churchyard's. From the dedicatory epistle before Churchyard's Challenge, 1593, we learn that some malicious persons had spread the report that he was not the real author of Shore's Wife. Infuriated by these libellous state- ments, Churchyard declares that — had he been a younger man — he would have challenged his traducers to open combat. ' Let not the sluggish sleep ' (p. 56) is part of a longer poem appended to The Play of Wyt made by Master fohn Radford, temp. Henry vin. (published from MS. by the Shakespeare Society in 1848). 'This sweet and merry month of May ' (p. 55) is by Thomas Watson, the sonnetteer, and had appeared among his Madrigals, 1590. In 1588 Nicholas Yonge, one of the singing men at St. Paul's, issued Musica Transalpina, the first collection of English madrigals. From the dedicatory epistle we learn that they had been translated from the Italian in 1583 'by a gentleman for his private delight.' The coy translator was often urged by Yonge to allow them to be printed, but would not consent. A Second Book followed in 1597- Some of these madrigals are choice 'relishes of rhyme,' but others need the accompaniment of voices to render them tolerable. The song-books of the renowned lutenist John Dowland, whose 'heavenly touch Upon the lute doth ravish human sense,' Introduction xv contain much beautiful poetry. Dowland, who appears to have been of Irish origin, was born about 1562. In early manhood he went abroad, and ' after rambling through the chiefest parts of France, a nation furnished with great variety of music,' made a stay in Germany, where he found skilful masters and bountiful patrons. Later he visited the chief towns of Italy and made the acquaintance of the celebrated composers Giovanni Croce and Luca Marenzio. He was in England in 1588, when the Mus. Bac. degree at Oxford was conferred upon him. His First Book of Airs was published in 1597, with a dedication to George Carey, Lord Hunsdon. In the address to the reader he spoke gratefully of the kindness that he had received abroad from musicians and music-lovers, and announced ' I am now ready to practise at home if I may but find encouragement in my first essays.' But though his music was so greatly admired, he seems to have found a difficulty in earning a competent livelihood at home, and before 1600, when his Second Book of Songs or Airs appeared, he had become lutenist to the King of Denmark. The publisher, George Eastland, prefixed to the Second Book an address to the reader, in which he declared that the 'charge and pains' of publication ' hath exceeded ordinary,' and plainly hinted that he would be likely to lose money by the venture. In 1603, when the Third Book was published, Dowland was still abroad. He visited England in 1605, and in 1609 he left the Danish Court to settle in Fetter Lane. On the title-page to his Pilgrim's Solace, 161 2, he is described as 1 Lutenist to the Lord Walden ' (eldest son of the Earl of Suffolk), to whom the collection was dedicated. From the prefatory address we learn that his music was beginning to b 11 xvi Shorter Elizabethan Poems be regarded as old-fashioned and obsolete by younger musicians. Dowland died in 1625 or 1626, leaving a son, Robert, who gained some fame as a composer. The poetry that John Dowland set to music is seldom poor and sometimes supremely beautiful. Perhaps the finest of all the poems in his collections is the anonymous 'I saw my lady weep' (p. 104). Mr. Bond claims these lovely verses for Lyly. He adduces no evidence, but the testimony of the angel Gabriel would fail to convince me that Lyly was capable of writing them. Hardly Campion, in his most exalted mood, could have risen to this height. I suspect that they are by one of those amateurs who sometimes attained, seemingly without effort, a faultless utterance. Two of the poems in the First Book — ' Whoever thinks or hopes of love for love' (p. 87) and ' Away with these self-loving lads ' (p. 99) — are by Fulke Greville, Lord Brooke, and were included in the 1633 collection of his Works. An early MS. copy, preserved at Hamburg, of the fine verses ( My Thoughts are winged with Hopes ' (p. 87), is subscribed ' W. S.' and has been hastily assigned to Shakespeare. In England's Helicon the poem is signed 'Ignoto' 1 ; in an MS. list drawn out by Francis Davison, editor of the Poetical Rapsody, it is ascribed to the Earl of Cumberland ; and Mr. Bond, of course, gives it to Lyly. I am inclined to think that it may be by Fulke Greville, though it was not included in his Works. There seems to be absolutely no reason for seeking to deprive George Peele of the authorship of ' His golden locks Time hath to silver turned ' (p. 97) ; for it was printed in his Polyhymnia, 1 Sir Egerton Brydges uncritically attributed to Ralegh all the poems signed ' Ignoto ' in England's Helicon. Introduction xvii 1590, and he was a poet of no mean order. Yet these touching stanzas have been perversely attributed by some modern critics to the Earl of Essex, and by Mr. Bond to Lyly. Sir Henry Lee, the aged (but virile) courtier, spoke them before Queen Elizabeth in November 1S90, when he formally resigned his office of voluntary champion. Thackeray, with apt felicity, quoted the first stanza in The Newcomes. A companion piece, seemingly written for the same occasion, is the curious copy of verses 'Time's eldest son, Old Age, the heir of Ease' (p. 106), humorous and fantastic and pathetic, that would have brought tears of delight to the eyes of Charles Lamb, but will provoke the derision of dullards. The three stanzas beginning ' It was a time when silly bees could speak '(p. 128) are part of a longer poem that is found in many MS. collections. Mr. Bond has given a very full version (Lyly's Works, iii. 494-499). ' I ts vogue,' he remarks, ' may be partly attri- buted to its, I believe, incorrect ascription to the Earl of Essex. In several MSS., notably in Harl. MS. 6910 — almost the best — it is anonymous.' Mr. Bond then proceeds to argue that the author was Lyly. The poem is of no particular merit, though it took the fancy of compilers of commonplace books ; but, as one of Mr. Bond's critics pointed out, we have the early authority of William Browne of Tavistock {Britannia s Pastorals, Book I. Song 4) for assigning it to Essex. In Egerton MS. 923 it is ascribed to the Earl's Chaplain, Henry Cuff. The poem that follows in the song-book — ' The lowest trees have tops, the ant her gall' — is attributed in Rawlinson MS. 148 to Sir Edward Dyer: it is subscribed ' Incerto ' in Davison's Poetical Rapsody, 1602, where is also found an 'Answer' beginning xviii Shorter Elizabethan Poems ' Compare the bramble with the cedar tree.' In Davison's MS. 'Catalogue of all the Poems in Rhyme and Measured Verse by A. W.,' No. 1 17, is ' Though lowest trees have tops, the ant her gall — Answer ' (Davison's Rhapsody, ed. Bullen, I. lxxi) ; and there is yet another 'Answer' in Harl. MS. 6910, fol. 153, 'The lowest trees have tops, the cedars higher.' The dainty little song, ' What poor astronomers are they' (p. 129) has been ascribed to Nicholas Breton, and is very much in his manner, but I have not been able to find it among his multitudinous writings. ' My heart and tongue were twins' (p. 142) is from an entertainment offered to Queen Elizabeth at Sudeley Castle, in Gloucester- shire, when she visited Lord Chandos there in 1592 (see Nichols's Progresses of Queen Elizabeth, ed. 2, vol. III., and Bond's Lyly, i.47 1 ,etc). It was reprinted in England's Helicon with the title ' Apollo's Love Song for Fair Daphne,' and was marked by the editor ' The Author thereof unknown.' The first stanza of ' Sweet, stay awhile ! why will you rise?' (p. 136) is found in the 1669 edition of Donne's Poems, where it is printed as the first stanza of the poem which in earlier editions of Donne had begun "Tis true, 'tis day, what though it be' (see Donne's Poems, ed. E. K. Chambers, i. 224). It may have been written in imitation of Donne. The poem that follows, ' To ask for all thy love and thy whole heart' (p. 137), bears clear traces of Donne's in- fluence. John Wilbye's madrigals have always been held in high esteem. Professor Arber included The First Set, 1598, in the Garner. Particularly charming are, ' Lady, when I behold the roses sprouting' (p. 148), paraphrased from an Italian madrigal of Celiano, and ' Thus saith my Chloris Introduction xix bright' (p. 148), paraphrased from Guarini. 1 ' What needeth all this travail and turmoiling' (p. 147), may be compared with Spenser's fifteenth sonnet, 'Ye tradeful merchants that with weary toil.' Both pieces are paraphrased from the sonnet of Philippe Desportes beginning, 'Marchans, qui traversez tout le rivage More.' Wilbye published a Second Set of Madrigals in 1609. There is good verse in Thomas Morley's collections; but the poetical merit of his Triumphs of Oriana (pp. 153-164), 1600, madrigals (set by various composers) in honour of Queen Elizabeth, is very slender. Richard Alison, who published in 1606 An Howres Recreation in Music, appre- ciated Campion's songs, for he included three of them (with Campion's leave or without) in his collection. The stanzas ' O heavy heart,' etc. (p. 264), were drawn from A Gorgious Gallery of Gallant Inventions, 1578; and 'My prime of youth' (p. 266) is supposed to have been written by Chidiock Tychbourne on the eve of his execution in 1586. While Byrd, Dowland, and other famous Elizabethan composers wrote only the music for their songs, Thomas Campion wrote both the poetry and the music. He seems to have studied originally for the bar, but he soon abandoned law for medicine and became a physician of some standing. In 1595 he published an excessively rare volume of Latin verse, Thomcs Campiani Poemata, which was reprinted with many additions and a few omissions in 1619. The 1595 edition has a glowing eulogy of John 1 Another version of Guarini's madrigal had appeared in the Second Book of Mil sic a Transalpina, 1597. See my anthology, Lyrics from Elizabethan Song- books, 1897, p. 71. 11 b2 xx Shorter Elizabethan Poems Dowland, but this was omitted in the later edition ; and I fear that they became estranged in after years. Campion's bewitching song, 'Hark 1 all you ladies that do sleep' was in print as early as 1591 among the poems 'of Sundrie other Noblemen and Gentlemen ' annexed to Newman's surreptitious edition of Sidney's Astrophel and Stella. George Peele in his Honour of the Garter, 1593, addressed him as 'thou That richly clothest conceit in well-made words' ; and three of his English songs are found in an MS. dated 1596 (Harl. MS. 6910). The first collection of his songs, A Book of Airs, appeared in 1601, with music written partly by himself and partly by his friend Philip Rosseter. In the address to the reader he modestly describes his songs as 'ear-pleasing rhymes without art,' but their artless grace 1 I suspect that the two pieces which follow 'Hark all you ladies' in Newman's volume are also by Campion, though he never claimed them. ' What fair pomp have I spied of glittering Ladies,' a delightful piece, is one of those metrical experiments in which he took so much pleasure. It evidently belongs to some unknown masque. The second piece runs thus : — ' My love bound me with a kiss That I should no longer stay : When I felt so sweet a bliss I had less power to pass away. Alas that women do not know Kisses make men loth to go.' This is set to music, with three more stanzas, in Robert Jones' Second Book of Songs and Airs (and is included in my Lyrics from Elizabethan Song-books, 1S97, p. 18). Let the reader compare Campion's Latin epigram : ' In Melleam. Mcllea mi si abeam promittit basia septem ; Basia dat septem, nee minus inde moror ; Euge, licet vafras fugit hasc fraus una puellas, Basia majores ingerere usque moras.' One cannot resist the conclusion that the Latin epigram and the English song are from the same hand. Introduction xxi was the perfection of artistry. While some of his poems charm by their light and easy elegance, others are dis- tinguished by richness of diction and warmth of imagina- tion. Few poets have used so great a variety of metres as Campion ; he handled simple and intricate measures with equal facility. Yet he was not satisfied with producing his 'ear-pleasing rhymes,' and in 1602 published a treatise, Observations in the Art of English Poesy, in which he advocated that rhyme should be abandoned and that unrhymed metres formed on classical models should be adopted. He gives several specimen poems that he had written in unrhymed metres. In many instances these specimens are merely curiosities of literature, but of singular beauty is the little poem beginning 'Rose-cheeked Laura, come' (Campion's Works, ed. Bullen, 1903, p. 258). In the same year Samuel Daniel published his Defence of Rhyme, in which he expressed surprise that an attack on rhyme should have been made by one ' whose commendable rhymes, albeit now himself an enemy to rhyme, have given heretofore to the world the best notice of his worth.' Ben Jonson (as we learn from his Conversations with Drmnmond of Haivthomderi) wrote a Discourse of Poesy — which was never published — 'both against Campion and Daniel.' Campion soon resumed the use of rhyme. In 1607 he published his first masque, written on the occasion of the marriage of Sir James Hay and performed before the king on Twelfth Night, 1606-7. * n l ^ 1 S he prepared three masques, one for the marriage of the Princess Elizabeth, another for the queen's entertainment at Cawsome [Cavers- ham] House, near Reading, and the third for the ill-omened marriage of the Earl of Somerset. In all these masques xxii Shorter Elizabethan Poems Campion's gifts of lively and ingenious invention are shown to good advantage, and songs of rare beauty are inter- spersed. His second collection of songs, Two Books of Airs, is undated, but must have been issued after November 1 612 (probably in 1613), for one song (p. 208) has a reference to the death of Prince Henry. The Third and Fourth, also undated, appeared soon after 1617. In the dedicatory epistle Campion congratulates his patron, Sir Thomas Monson, on the fact that ' those clouds that lately overcast Your fame and fortune are dispersed at last.' Monson had been committed to the Tower (where Campion attended him professionally) in December 161 5 on suspicions of complicity in the murder of Sir Thomas Overbury. He was released on bail in October 1616, and was finally ' pardoned ' in the following February. Campion died on 1st March 1619-20 in the parish of St. Martin's in the West, having on that day executed a nuncupative will by which he left ' all that he had unto Mr. Philip Rosseter and wished that his estate had bin farre more.' The value of the estate was twenty-two pounds. Of recent years Campion's poetry, which was long neglected, has come prominently into notice. He was a most skilful artist, with a Greek sense of form. Well aware of his limitations he never attempted a task that was beyond him. In his delightful apology at the end of the 1607 masque he declared that, while others might cultivate tragedy and epic, he was content to write 'smooth and gentle verse' to charm the ears of ladies : — ' Let the tragic poem swell, Raising raging fiends from hell ; Introduction xxiii And let epic dactyls range Swelling seas and countries strange : Little room small things contains ; Easy praise quites easy pains. Suffer them whose brows do sweat To gain honour by the great i 1 It's enough if men me name A retailer of the same.' Among the 'little masters 'of the Elizabethan age he has no superior. Of the song-books not included by Professor Arber in the Garner the most interesting are Robert Jones's various Books of Airs, ranging from 1601 to 161 1. Jones's fifth book, The Muses Gardin for Delights, long lay hidden ; but a year or two ago Mr. Barclay Squire found a copy in the library at Stafford House and reprinted the poetry (in 1901) at the private printing press of Rev. C. H. Daniel, now Provost of Worcester College, Oxford. Beloe had extracted the best poems, but it is well to have a complete reprint. In preparing my anthologies, Lyrics from Elizabethan Song- books and More Lyrics, I went through all the song-books that I could find and made extracts from sixty collections. 2 Recently Miss Janet Dodge has published Twelve Eliza- bethan Songs (1902), giving good examples not only of the poetry, but of the music of the old song-books. Leaving the song-books we come to a copious collection (pp. 269-310) of sixteenth and seventeenth century posies. Taken a few at a time, these suckets have a pleasant relish. The quaint title of the 1624 volume runs : — Love's Garland : or Posies for Rings, Handkerchers and Gloves ; and such 1 ' by the great ' — wholesale. 2 Some of the songs that I gave were from MS. collections and had not previously been printed. Now they have found their way into many anthologies. xx/v Shorter Elizabethan Poems pretty Tckens as Lovers send their Loves. Read, Skan, then Judge. A rustic suitor sending a girdle or a present of gloves to his sweetheart would turn to his book of posies and select some appropriate verses to accompany the gift. A village maid would embroider a scarf for her lover with some affectionate greeting drawn from its pages, e.g. — 'She that of all doth love thee dearest Doth send thee this ; which as thou wearest, And oft does look on, think on me As I by thine do think on thee.' Many are brief true-love mottoes for rings : — ' In trust be just/ 'If thou deny I wish to die,' 'No bitter smart can change my heart,' etc. Our Christmas bon-bon rhymes are a poor survival of the old posies. A group of shorter poems follows, ranging from the Elizabethan time to the days of Charles II. ' What cunning can express' (p. 313) shows the Earl of Oxford at his best, and ' Rosalynd's Madrigal ' (p. 315) is among the daintiest of Thomas Lodge's lyrics. The authorship of the ever- welcome ' Phyllada flouts me' (p. 317) remains a mystery. Professor Arber's text is from Mennes' and Smith's Musarum DelicicE, 1655, but the poem is at least half a cen- tury older. Ben Jonson's Hue and Cry after Cupid (p. 321) is from the masque performed at Court on Shrove Tuesday, 1607-8, for the marriage of Lord Haddington. It is modelled, like Tasso's Amore Fugitivo, on Moschus' first Idyllium (which was also imitated by Spenser in Faerie Queene, Book IV. Canto vi.). The fairy-poem ' King Oberon's Apparel' (p. 325), from Musarum Delicics, was written in 1626-7 by Robert Herrick's friend Sir Simeon Steward, and first appeared in a booklet entitled A Descrip- Introduction xxv tion of the King and Queen e of Fayries, 1635 (A. W. Pollard's Herrick, Appendix II. vol. ii. pp. 323-327). ' I loved a lass, a fair one' (p. 327) was attributed in Warton's Companion to the Oxford Guide to John Taylor the water- poet, but it is certainly too good for Taylor. Hearne quoted the third stanza as Wither's ; and Mr. Frank Sidgwick has not hesitated to include the song in The Poetry of George Wither (1903, ii. 148-152). It first appeared in A Description of Love 1 (of which the sixth edition is dated 1629), where was published 'Master Johnson's 2 Answer' to Wither's 'Shall I wasting in despair?' If the song be Wither's, as I believe it to be, it was written before he left Oxford. Cowley, the idol of his age, but now read only by the few, is here represented by his sprightly ' Chronicle,' those mellow stanzas 'The Wish,' and the rollicking fantastic ode 'Sitting and drinking in the chair 3 made out of the Relics of Sir Francis Drake's ship.' Andrew Mar- veil's 'Bermudas' and 'The Garden' (pp. 340-4) are two imperishable poems, of haunting beauty. We descend to the lower slopes of Parnassus when we turn from Marvell's masterpieces to the songs of Sir Charles Sedley (pp. 348-350); but for briskness, gaiety, and saucy invention the best of Sedley's songs have seldom been excelled. Charles Cotton, a man of many accomplishments, brings our volume to a close with his fine stanzas on 'Winter' (pp. 351-8). 1 I have not seen an edition earlier than that of 1629. The first edition was issued in 1620. 2 Not Ben Jonson, but Richard Johnson, the compiler of Garlands. 5 In the Bodleian Library may still be seen a chair made from fragments of Drake's ship 'The Golden Hind.' For many years the ship was preserved at Deptford, and supper parties used to be held on it. A tradition lingers in Deptford that Christopher Marlowe was slain on board ' The Golden Hind ' after a drinking bout. xxvi Shorter Elizabethan Poems Wordsworth and Charles Lamb have recorded their ad- miration of this poem. 1 In the preface to the 1815 collection of Poems: including Lyrical Ballads, Wordsworth wrote: — 'Finally I will refer to Cotton's "Ode upon Winter," an admirable composition, though stained with some peculiarities of the age in which he lived, for a general illustration of the characteristics of Fancy.' He bids the reader note the 'profusion of fanciful comparisons, which indicate on the part of the poet extreme activity of intellect, and a correspondent hurry of delightful feeling'; and he ends his generous eulogium by quoting several stanzas. The shade of honest hearty Mr. Cotton must surely have been gratified by this tribute from the pen of 'him who uttered nothing base.' A. H. B. 1 Coleridge, too, admired Cotton's poetry. In Biographia Literaria (ii. 96) he writes: — 'There are not a few of his poems replete with every excellence of thought, images, and passions, which we expect or desire in the milder Muse.' 'Psa/ms, Sonnets, and Songs of Sadness and 'Piety. By William Byrd, one of the gentlemen of the Queen's Majesty's honorable Chapel. i 5 88. 11 William Byrd's First Book II Reasons briefly set down by the author, to persuade every one to learn to sing. Irst it is a knowledge easily taught, and quickly learned ; where there is a good master, and an apt scholar. 2. The exercise of singing is delightful to Nature, and good to preserve the health of man. 3. It doth strengthen all the parts of the breast, and doth open the pipes. 4. It is a singular good remedy for a stutt[er]ing and stammering in the speech. 5. It is the best means to procure a perfect pronuncia- tion, and to make a good orator. 6. It is the only way to know where Nature hath bestowed the benefit of a good voice ; which gift is so rare, as there is not one among a thousand that hath it : and in many, that excellent gift is lost, because they want Art to express Nature. 7. There is not any music of instruments whatsoever com- parable to that which is made of the voices of men ; where the voices are good, and the same well sorted or ordered. 8. The better the voice is, the meeter it is to honour and serve GOD therewith : and the voice of man is chiefly to be employed to that end. Omnis spiritus laudet DOMINUM I Since singing is so good a thing, I wish all men would learn to sing. of Psalms, Sonnets, and Songs. TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE Sir Christopher Hatton, Knight, Lord Chancellor of England ; William Byrd wisheth long life, and the same to be most healthy and happy. He often desires of many my good friends, Right Honourable ! and the consideration of many untrue in- corrected copies of divers of my Songs spread abroad; have been the two causes chiefly moving my consent, at length, to put in print the fruits of my small skill and labours in Music. Then the duty, honour and service due from me unto your Lordship, together with the remembrance of your judgement and love of that art, did move and embolden me to present this first printed work of mine in English, to pass under your Lordship's favour and protection ; unworthy I confess, of the view or patronage of so worthy a personage. Yet remembering that small things some- times do great service, and that repose is best tasted by bodies fore- wearied : I hoped that, by this occasion, these poor Songs of mine might happily yield some sweetness, repose, and recreation unto your Lordship's mind, after your daily pains and cares taken in the high affairs of the common wealth. Most humbly beseeching your Lordship, that if my boldness herein be faulty, my dutiful good will and good meaning may excuse it : which, if I may so fortunately perceive, it shall en- courage me to suffer some other things of more depth and skill to follow these ; which being not yet finished, are of divers expected and desired. Incessantly beseeching our LORD to make your years happy and end blessed, I wish there were anything in me worthy of your Lordship to be commanded. Most humbly, your Lordship's ever to command, William Byrd. William Byrd's First Book THE EPISTLE TO THE READER. Enign Reader! Here is offered unto thy courteous acceptance ! Music of sundry sorts, and to content divers humours. If thou be disposed to pray, here are Psalms! if to be merry, here are Sonnets! if to lament for thy sins, here are Songs of Sadness and Piety ! if thou delight in music of great compass, here are divers songs, which being originally made for instruments to express the harmony and one voice to pronounce the ditty, are now framed, in all parts for voices to sing the same! If thou desire songs of small compass and fit for the reach of most voices : here are most in number of that sort! Whatsoever pains I have taken herein, I shall think to be well em- ployed; if the same be well accepted, music thereby the better loved, and the more exercised. In the expressing of these Songs, either by voices or instruments, if there happen to be any jar or disonance, blame not the printer ! who, I do assure thee, through his great pains and diligence, doth here deliver to thee a perfect and true copy. If in the composition of these Songs, there be any fault by me committed, I desire the skil- ful, either with courtesy to let the same be concealed; or in friendly sort, to be thereof admonished ; and at the next impression he shall find the error reformed; remembering always, that it is more easy to find afaidt than to amend it. If thou find anything here worthy of liking and commendation, give praise unto GOD, from Whom, as from a most pure and plentiful fountain, all good gifts of science do flow : Whose Name be glorified for ever. The most assured friend to all that love or learn Music, William Byrd. of Psalms, Sonnets, and Songs. S N H E T jS AND Pa$TOF(AJL$. Joy not in no earthly bliss, I force not Crgesus' wealth a straw For care, I know not what it is, I fear not Fortune's fatal law. My mind is such as may not move, For beauty bright nor force of love. I wish but what I have at will, I wander not to seek for more. I like the plain, I climb no hill, In greatest storms, I sit on shore And laugh at them that toil in vain, To get what must be lost again. I kiss not where I wish to kill, I fain not love, where most I hate : I break no sleep to win my will,, I wait not at the mighty's gate : I scorn no poor, nor fear no rich; I feel no want, nor have too much. The Court and cart I like, nor loath Extremes are counted worst of all ; The golden mean, between them both, Doth surest sit and fears no fall. This is my choice, for why ? I find No wealth is like the quiet mind. William Byrd's First Book Hough Amarillis dance in green Like Fairy Queen, And sing full clear ; Corinna can with smiling, cheer. Yet since their eyes make heart so sore, chij^iwiu. Hey ho ! chil love no more. My sheep are lost for want of food And I so wood, That all the day I sit and watch a herd-maid gay ; Who laughs to see me sigh so sore, Hey ho ! chil love no more. Her loving looks, her beauty bright, Is such delight ; That all in vain, I love to like, and lose my gain For her, that thanks me not therefore ; Hey ho ! chil love no more. Ah, wanton eyes ! my friendly foes And cause of woes ; Your sweet desire Breeds flames of ice, and freeze in fire : Ye scorn to see me weep so sore, Hey ho ! chil love no more. Love ye who list, I force him not, Sith God it wot, The more I wail, The less my sighs and tears prevail : What shall I do ? but say therefore, Hey ho 1 chil love no more. of Psalms, Sonnets, and Songs. Ho likes to love, let him take heed, And wot you why ? | Among the gods, it is decreed That Love shall die ; And every wight that takes his part, Shall forfeit each, a mourning heart. The cause is this, as I have heard, A sort of dames, Whose beauty he did not regard, Nor secret flames, Complained before the gods above, That gold corrupts the god of love. The gods did storm to hear this news, And there they swore ; That sith he did such dames abuse, He should no more Be god of love, but that he should Both die, and forfeit all his gold. His bow and shafts they took away, Before his eyes ; And gave these dames a longer day For to devise Who should them keep; and they be bound, That love for gold should not be found. These ladies striving long, at last They did agree To give them to a maiden chaste, Whom I did see ; Who with the same, did pierce my breast: Her beauty's rare ; and so I rest. William Byrd's First Book Y mind to me a kingdom is, Such perfect joy therein I find. That it excels all other bliss, That GOD or Nature hath assigned ; Though much I want, that most would have ; Yet still my mind forbids to crave. No princely port, nor wealthy store, No force to win a victory, No wily wit to salve a sore, No shape to win a loving eye : To none of these, I yield as thrall, For why ? My mind despise them all. I see that plenty surfeits oft, And hasty climbers soonest fall ; I see that such as are aloft, Mishap doth threaten most of all : These get with toil, and keep with fear, Such cares my mind can never bear. I press to bear no haughty sway, I wish no more than may suffice ; I do no more than well I may, Look what I want, my mind supplies : Lo thus, I triumph like a king, My mind content with anything. I laugh not at another's loss, Nor grudge not at another's gain, No worldly waves my mind can toss, I brook that is another's bane, I fear no foe, nor fawn on friend ; I loath not life, nor dread mine end. of Psalms, Sonnets, and Songs. 9 My wealth is health, and perfect ease ; And conscience clear, my chief defence : I never seek, by bribes to please, Nor by desert, to give offence : Thus do I live ! thus will I die! Would all did so, as well as I ! [Sir Edward Dyer.] Here Fancy fond, for Pleasure pleads, And Reason keeps poor Hope in gaol : There time it is to take my beads, And pray that Beauty may prevail ; Or else Despair will win the field, Where Reason, Hope and Pleasure yield. My eyes presume to judge this case, Whose judgement, Reason doth disdain ; But Beauty with her wanton face, Stands to defend, the case is plain : And at the bar of sweet delight, She pleads " that Fancy must be right." But Shame will not have Reason yield, Though Grief do swear it shall be so ; As though it were a perfect shield, To blush, and fear to tell my woe : Where Silence force will, at the last, To wish for wit, when hope is past. So far hath fond Desire outrun The bond which Reason set out first ; That where Delight the fray begun I would now say, if that I durst, That in her stead, ten thousand Woes Have sprung in field where Pleasure grows. io William Byrd's First Book that I might declare the rest, Of all the toys which Fancy turns ; Like towers of wind within my breast. Where fire is hid that never burns : Then should I try one of the twain, Either to love, or to disdain. But fine conceit dares not declare The strange conflict of hope and fear : Lest Reason should be left so bare, That love durst whisper in mine ear ; And tell me " how my Fancy shall Bring Reason to be Beauty's thrall." 1 must therefore, with silence, build The labyrinth of my delight ; Till love have tried in open field, Which of the twain shall win the fight I fear me Reason must give place ; If Fancy fond, win Beauty's grace. F women could be fair and never fond, Or that their beauty might continue still : I would not marvel though they made men bond, By service long, to purchase their goodwill : But when I see how frail these creatures are, I laugh that men forget themselves so far ! To mark what choice they make, and how they change; How leaving best, the worst they chose out still ; And how like haggards wild, about they range, Scorning after reason to follow will : Who would not shake such bussards from the fist ; And let them fly, fair fools ! which way they list ? of Psalms, Sonnets, and Songs. i i Yet for our sport, we fawn and flatter both, To pass the time, when nothing else can please ; And train them on to yield, by subtle oath, The sweet content, that gives such humour ease: And then we say, when we their follies try, " To play with fools ; O what a fool was I ! " [Edward, Earl of Oxford.] jIMbitious love hath forced me to aspire The beauties rare which do adorn thy face ! Thy modest life yet bridles my desire, Whose severe law doth promise me no grace ! But what! May Love live under any law ? No ! no ! His power exceedeth man's conceit : Of which the gods themselves do stand in awe ; For on his frown, a thousand torments wait. Proceed then in this desperate enterprise, with good advise ! Andfollow Love thy guide that leads thee to thy wished paradise' Thy climbing thoughts, this comfort take withal ! That if it be thy foul disgrace to slide, Thy brave attempt shall yet excuse thy fall. Hat pleasure have great princes, More dainty to their choice, Than herdsmen wild ? who careless, In quiet life rejoice; And fortune's fate not fearing, Sing sweet in summer morning. Their dealings plain and rightful, Are void of all deceit ; They never know how spiteful, It is to kneel and wait On favourite presumptuous, Whose pride is vain and sumptuous. 12 William Byrd's First Book All day their flocks each tendeth; At night, they take their rest ; More quiet than who sendeth His ship into the East, Where gold and pearl are plenty ; But getting, very dainty. For lawyers and their pleading, They 'steem it not a straw ; They think that honest meaning Is of itself a law : Whence conscience judgeth plainly, They spend no money vainly. O happy who thus liveth ! Not caring much for gold ; With clothing which sufficeth To keep him from the cold. Though poor and plain his diet ; Yet merry it is, and quiet. S I beheld, I saw a herdsman wild, With his sheephook, a picture fine deface ; Which he sometime, his fancy too beguiled, Had carved on bark of beech, in secret place : And with despite of most afflicted mind, Through deep despair of heart, for love dismayed ; He pulled even from the tree, the carved rind, And weeping sore, these woeful words he said. " Ah Philida! would God, thy picture fair, I could as lightly blot out of my breast; Then should I not thus rage with great despite, And tear the thing, sometime I liked best. But all in vain. It booteth not, God wot ! What printed is in heart, on tree to blot." of Psalms, Sonnets, and Songs. 13 Lthough the heathen poets did Apollo famous praise, As one who for his music sweet, no peer had in his days. N fields abroad, where trumpets shrill do sound, Where glaves and shields do give and take the knocks ; Where bodies dead do overspread the ground, And friends to foes, are common butcher's blocks ; A gallant shot, well managing his piece, In my conceit deserves a golden fleece. Amid the seas, a gallant ship set out, Wherein nor men nor yet munition lacks ; In greatest winds, that spareth not a clout, But cuts the waves, in spite of weather's wracks ; Would force a swain, that comes of coward's kind, To change himself, and be of noble mind. Who makes his seat a stately stamping steed, Whose neighs and plays are princely to behold ; Whose courage stout, whose eyes are fiery red, Whose joints well knit, whose harness all of gold ; Doth well deserve to be no meaner thing, Than Persian knight, whose horse made him a Kin{ By that bedside where sits a gallant Dame, Who casteth off her brave and rich attire ; Whose petticoat sets forth as fair a frame As mortal men or gods can well desire. Who sits and sees her petticoat unlaced : I say no more. The rest are all disgraced. 14 William Byrd's First Book Onstant Penelope sends to thee, careless Ulysses ! Write not again, but come, sweet Mate ! thyself to revive me. [Greece. Troy we do much envy, we desolate lost ladies of Not Priamus, nor yet all Troy, can us recompense make. Oh, that he had, when he first took shipping to Lacedemon, That adulter I mean, had been o'erwhelmed with waters ! Then had I not lien now all alone, thus quivering for cold ; Nor used this complaint, nor have thought the day to be solong. Arewell, false Love ! the oracle of lies, A mortal foe, and enemy to rest ; An envious boy, from whom all cares arise ; A bastard vile, a beast with rage possest, A way of error, a temple full of treason : In all effects, contrary unto reason. A poisoned serpent covered all with flowers, Mother of sighs, and murderer of repose ; A sea of sorrows from whence are drawn such showers, As moisture lend, to every grief that grows; A school of guile, a net of deep deceit, A gilded hook that holds a poisoned bait. A fortress foiled, which Reason did defend, A Siren song, a fever of the mind, A maze wherein affection finds no end, A raging cloud that runs before the wind, A substance like the shadow of the sun, A goal of grief for which the wisest run. A quenchless fire, a nurse of trembling fear, A path that leads to peril and mishap, A true retreat of sorrow and despair, An idle boy that sleeps in Pleasure's lap, A deep mistrust of that which certain seems, A hope of that which Reason doubtful deems. of Psalms, Sonnets, and Songs. 15 He match that's made for just and true respects, With evenness, both of years and parentage ; Of force must bring forth many good effects. Pari jugo dulcis tr actus. For where chaste love and liking sets the plant, And concord waters with a firm goodwill, Of no good thing there can be any want. Pari jugo dulcis tractus. Sound is the knot, that Chastity hath tied, Sweet is the music, Unity doth make, Sure is the store, that Plenty doth provide. Pari jugo dulcis tractus. Where Chasteness fails, there Concord will decay, Where Concord fleets, there Plenty will decrease, Where Plenty wants, there Love will wear away. Pari jugo dulcis tractus. I Chastity, restrain all strong desires ! I Concord, keep the course of sound consent! I Plenty, spare and spend, as cause requires! Pari jugo dulcis tractus. Make much of us, all ye that married be ! Speak well of us, all ye that mind to be ! The time may come, to want and wish all three. Pari jugo dulcis tractus. i6 William Byrd's First Book SoNQg OF S/VDNE££ AND PlETY. Rostrate, O LORD ! I lie, Behold me, LORD ! with pity. Stop not Thine ears ! against my cry, My sad and mourning ditty, Breathed from an inward soul, From heart heart'ly contrite ; An offering sweet, a sacrifice In Thy heavenly sight. Observe not sins, O LORD ! For who may then abide it ; But let Thy mercy cancel them, Thou hast not man denied it. Man melting with remorse and thoughts Thought past repenting. O lighten, LORD ! O hear our songs ! Our sins full sore lamenting. The wonders of Thy works, Above all reason reacheth ; And yet Thy mercy above all This, us Thy Spirit teacheth ! Then let no sinner fall In depth of fou' despair; Since never soul so foul there was, But mercy made it fair. of Psalms, Sonnets, and Songs. 17 Ll as a sea, the world no other is, Ourselves are Ships still tossed to and fro. And lo, each man, his love to that or this, ' J Is like a Storm that drives the ship to go ; That thus our life in doubt of shipwreck stands : Our wills, the Rocks ; our want of skill, the Sands. Our passions be the Pirates still that spoil, And overboard cast out our reason's Freight ; The Mariners that day and night do toil, Be our conceits that do on pleasure wait : Pleasure, Master, doth tyrannize the ship, And giveth virtue secretly the nip. The Compass is a mind to compass all, Both pleasure, profit, place, and fame for nought : The Winds that blow, men overweening call, The Merchandise is wit full dearly bought, Trial the Anchor cast upon experience, For labour, life, and all ado the Recompense. Usanna fair, sometime assaulted was, By two old men, desiring their delight; Whose false intent they thought to bring to pass, If not by tender love, by force and might. To whom she said, " If I you suit deny, You will me falsely accuse, and make me die. And if I grant to that which you request, My chastity shall then deflowered be : Which is so dear to me that I detest My life ; if it berefted be from me. And rather would I die, of mine accord, Ten thousand times, than once offend the LORD !" n B 1 3 William Byrd's First Book F that a sinner's sighs be angels' food, Or that repentant tears be angels' wine ; Accept, LORD ! in this most pensive mood These hearty sighs and tears of mine : That went with Peter forth most sinfully ; But not with Peter wept most bitterly. If I had David's crown to me betide, Or all his purple robes that he did wear ; I would lay then such honour all aside, And only seek a sackcloth weed to bear : His palace would I leave, that I might show And mourn in cell for such offence, my woe. There should these hands beat on my pensive breast ; And sad to death, for sorrow rend my hair : My voice to call on Thee, should never rest ; Whose grace I seek, Whose judgement I do fear. Upon the ground, all grovelling on my face, I would beseech Thy favour and good grace ! But since I have not means to make the show Of my repentant mind, and yet I see My sin, to greater heap than Peter's grow, Whereby the danger more it is to me : I put my trust in His most precious blood, Whose life was paid to purchase all our good. Thy mercy greater is than any sin ! Thy greatness none can ever comprehend ! Wherefore, O LORD ! let me Thy mercy win, Whose glorious name, no time can ever end : Wherefore I say, " All praise belongs to Thee ! " Whom I beseech be merciful to me. of Psalms, Sonnets, and Songs. 19 Are for thy soul, as thing of greatest price ! Made to the end to taste of power divine ; Devoid of guilt, abhorring sin and vice, Apt by GOD's grace to virtue to incline : Care for it so, as by thy retchless train It be not brought to taste eternal pain ! Care for thy corps [body], but chiefly for soul's sake ; Cut off excess ! sustaining food is best. To vanquish pride, but comely clothing take ; Seek after skill ! deep ignorance detest ! Care so, I say, the flesh to feed and clothe, That thou harm not thy soul and body both. Care for the world, to do thy body right ; Rack not thy wit, to win by wicked ways, Seek not t'oppress the weak by wrongful might, To pay thy due, do banish all delays : Care to dispend, according to thy store, And in like sort, be mindful of the poor. Care for thy soul, as for thy chiefest stay, Care for thy body, for the soul's avail, Care for the world, for body's help alway : Care yet but so as virtue may prevail. Care in such sort ! that thou be sure of this, Care keep thee not from heaven and heavenly bliss. Lulla, la lulla, lull a lullaby, My sweet little Baby ! what meanest thou to cry ? E still, my blessed Babe! though cause thou hast to mourn, Whose blood most innocent to shed, the cruel King hath sworn ; 20 William Byrd's First Book And lo, alas, behold what slaughter he doth make, Shedding the blood of infants all, sweet Saviour ! for Thy sake ! A King is born, they say ; which King, this King would kill. Oh woe ! and woeful heavy day ! when wretches have their will. Lulla, la lull a, lull a lullaby, My sweet little Baby ! what meanest thou to cry ? Three Kings, this King of Kings to see, are come from far ; To each unknown, with offerings great, by guiding of a star: And shepherds heard the Song, which angels bright did sing, Giving all glory unto GOD, for [the] coming of this King : Which must be made away, King Herod would him kill. Oh woe! and woeful heavy day! when wretches have their will. Lulla, la lulla, lulla lullaby, My sweet little Baby ! what meanest thou to cry ? Lo ! lo ! my little Babe ! be still, lament no more ! From fury shalt thou step aside! Help have we still in store. We heavenly warning have, some other soil to seek. From death, must fly the Lord of Life, as lamb both mild and meek ; Thus must my Babe obey the King, that would him kill. Oh woe ! and woeful heavy day ! when wretches have their will. Lulla, la lulla, lulla lullaby, My sweet little Baby ! what meanest thou to cry ? But Thou shalt live and reign ! as sybils have foresaid, As all the prophets prophesy ; whose mother yet a maid And perfect virgin pure, with her breasts shall upbreed Both GOD and man, that all hath made, the Son of heavenly seed : Whom caitifs none can 'tray, whom tyrants none can kill. Oh joy ! and joyful happy day! when wretches want their will. of Psalms, Sonnets, and Songs. 21 Hy do I use my paper, ink, and pen, And call my wits to counsel what to say ? Such memories were made for mortal men ; I speak of saints, whose names cannot decay ! An angel's trump were fitter for to sound Their glorious death ! if such on earth were found. That store of such were once on earth pursued, The histories of ancient times record ; Whose constancy, great tyrants' rage subdued ; Through patient death, professing Christ their LORD, As his Apostles perfect witness bear, With many more, that blessed martyrs were. Whose patience rare, and most courageous mind, With fame renowned, perpetual shall endure ; By whose examples we may rightly find Of holy life and death, a pattern pure. That we therefore their virtues may embrace ; Pray we to Christ, to guide us with His grace ! 22 William Byrd's First Book The Funeral Sonq£ or that honourable qentleman, s i f\ Philip Sidney, Kjmiqht. Ome to me grief, for ever ! Come to me tears, day and night ! Come to me plaint ! Ah, helpless ! Just grief! heart's tears ! plaint worthy ! ,Go from dread to die now ! Go from me care to live now ! Go from me joys all on earth ! Sidney ! O Sidney is dead ! He whom the Court adorned, He whom the country courtes'd, He who made happy his friends, He that did good to all men. Sidney, the hope of land strange ! Sidney, the flower of England ! Sidney, the sprite heroic ! Sidney is dead ! O dead ! dead ! of Psalms, Sonnets, and Songs. 23 Dead ! no, no, but renowned ! With the anointed oned ! Honour on earth at his feet, Bliss everlasting his seat. Come to me grief, for ever ! Come to me tears, day and night ! Come to me plaint ! Ah, helpless ! Just grief! heart's tears ! plaint worthy! That most rare breast ! crystalline, sincere, Through which, like gold, thy princely heart did shine. O sprite heroic ! O valiant worthy knight ! O Sidney ! Prince of fame and men's good will ; For thee ! both kings and princesses do mourn. Thy noble tomb, three cities strange desired ! Foes to the cause thy prowess did defend, Bewail the day that crost thy famous race ! The doleful debt due to thy hearse I pay, Tears from the soul, that aye thy want shall moan. And by my will, my life itself would yield ; If heathen blame ne might my faith distain. O heavy time ! that my days draw behind thee ! Thou dead, dost live ! thy friend here living, dieth ! Songs of Sundrie Natures. By William Byrd. Songs of Sundrie J^{atures, some of grauitie, and others of myrth, fit for all companies and Voyces. Lately made and composed into Musick of 3, 4, 5, and 6 parts: and published for the delight of all such as take pleasure in the exercise of that Art. By William Byrd, one of the Gentlemen of the Queenes Majesties honorable Chappell. Imprinted at London by Thomas Este, the assigne of William Byrd, and are to bee sold at the house of the sayd T. Este, beeing in Aldersgate street, at the signe of the blaclce Horse. 1589. Cum pr'iu'ilegio Regia Ma'iestatis. 29 To THE RIGHT HONORABLE MY VERY GOOD LORD, Sir HENRY CARYE, Baron of Hunsdon, Knight of the most noble order of the garter, lord chamberlain to the Queenes most excellent Majestie, Lord Warden of the East Marches towards Scotland, governour of Barwycke and the Castle of Norham, Captain of the Gentlemen Pensioners, Justice in Oyer, over all her Majesties Forests and Chases, on this side the River of Trent, and one of her Majesties most honorable privie Councel. William Byrd wisheth increase of honour, with all true felicitie. Aving observed {Right Honourable) that since the publishing in print, of my last labors in Music, divers persons of great honour and worship, have more esteemed and delighted in the exercise of that Art, then before. And being persuaded, that the same hath the rather encreased, through their good acceptation of my former endeavours : it hath especially moved and encouraged mee to take further pains to gratify their ^o Dedication to Sir Henry Carye. courteous dispositions thereunto, knowing that the varietie and choise of songs, is both a praise of the Art, and a pleasure to the delighted therein. And finding no person to whom the dedication thereof so fitly and pi'operly belonged, as unto your Lordship, by whom {through the honorable office which you exercise about her Majesties person) both my self {for my place of service,) and all other her highnesse Musicians are to be commanded, and under your high authority to be protected. And for many favours to me shelved, being most deeply bound unto your Honor, having not in me any other power of serviceable thankfulness then in notes and tunes of music. I most humbly beseech your Lordship to take into your honorable protection, these my poor travells in that Art, accepting them as Servants ready to give your L. delight, after you have been forewearied in affairs of great importance. Beseeching Almighty God to give you a long, healthy, and happy life, with a blessed end. I humbly take my leave. Your Lordships most bounden, WILLIAM BYRD 3i To the Courteous Reader. Inding that my last Impression of Music (most gentle Reader) through thy courtesy and favour, hath had good passage and utterance : and that since the publishing thereof, the exercise and love of that Art to have exceedingly increased. I have been encouraged thereby, to take further pains therein, and to make thee partaker thereof, because I would shew my self grateful to thee for thy love, and desirous to delight thee with variety, whereof (in my opinion) no Science is more plentifully adorned then Music. For which purpose I do now publish for thee, songs of 3, 4, 5 and 6 parts, to serve for all companies and voices : whereof some are easy and plain to sing, other more hard and difficult, but all, such as any young practicioner in singing, with a little foresight, may easily perform. If I find thy courtesy to extend as well to these my present travells, as it hath done to my former endeavours, I will make my self endebted to thee during my life, of whatsoever is in me, to yield thy delight in Music, any satisfaction. The most affectionate friend to all that love or learn music WILLIAM BYRD. Songs of Sundrie Natures. 33 Songs of Sundrie Natures. The nightingale so pleasant and so gay In greenwood groves delights to make his dwellingj In fields to fly, chanting his roundelay At liberty, against the cage rebelling. But my poor heart, with sorrows over swelling, Through bondage vile binding my freedom short, No pleasure takes in these his sports excelling, Nor in his song receiveth no comfort. The First Part. WHEN younglings first on Cupid fix their sight And see him naked, blindfold, and a boy, Though bow and shafts and fire-brand be his might, Yet ween they he can work them none annoy. And therefore with his purple wings they play, For glorious seemeth Love, though light as feather, And when they have done, they ween to 'scape away, For blind men, say they, shoot they know not whither The Second Part. BUT when by proof they find that he did see, And that his wound did rather dim their sight, They wonder more how such a lad as he Should be of such surpassing power and might. But ants have galls, so hath the bee his sting : Then shield me, heav'ns, from such a subtle thing. II c 34 William Byrd's The First Part. UPON a summer's day Love went to swim, And cast himself into a sea of tears. The clouds call'd in their light, and heav'n wax'd dim, And sighs did raise a tempest, causing fears. The naked boy could not so wield his arms But that the waves were masters of his might, And threat'ned him to work far greater harms If he devised not to 'scape by flight. The Second Part. Then for a boat his quiver stood in stead His bow unbent did serve him for a mast, Whereby to sail, his cloth of vail he spread, His shafts for oars on either board he cast. From shipwreck safe this wag got thus to shore And sware to bathe in lovers' tears no more. ^^^ The greedy hawk, with sudden sight of lure, Doth stoop in hope to have her wished prey: So many men do stoop to sights unsure And courteous speech doth keep them at the bay. Let them beware, lest friendly looks be like The lure, whereat the soaring hawk did strike. ¥¥¥ Songs of Sundrie Natures. 35 The First Part. Is Love a boy? what means he then to strike? Or is he blind ? why will he be a guide ? Is he a man ? why doth he hurt his like? Is he a god? why doth he men deride? No one of these, but one compact of all : A wilful boy, a man still dealing blows, Of purpose blind, to lead men to their thrall, A god that rules, unruly God He knows. The Second Part. BOY, pity me that am a child again ; Blind, be no more my guide to make me stray ; Man, use thy might to force away my pain ; God, do me good and lead me to my way. And if thou be'st a pow'r to me unknown Pow'r of my life, let here thy grace be shown. * V * The First Part. WOUNDED I am and dare not seek relief For this new stroke unseen but not unfelt ; No blood nor bruise is witness of my grief, But sighs and tears wherewith I mourn and melt. If I complain, my witness is suspect, If I contain, with cares I am undone: Sit still and die, tell truth and be reject ; O hateful choice, that sorrow cannot shun. 36 William Byrd's The Second Part. Yet of us twain whose loss shall be the less, Mine of my life, or you of your good name ? Light is my death regarding my distress But your offence cries out to your defame, " A virgin fair hath slain for lack of grace The man that made an idol of her face." *** The First Part. FROM Citheron the warlike boy is fled, And smiling sits upon a Virgin's lap, Thereby to train poor misers to the trap Whom beauty draws with fancy to be fed ; And when desire with eager looks is led, Then from her eyes The arrow flies, Feather'd with flame, arm'd with a golden-head. The Second Part. There careless thoughts are freed of that flame, Wherewith her thralls are scorched to the heart ; If Love would so, would God th' enchanting dart Might once return and burn from whence it came ! Not to deface of beauty's work the frame, But by rebound It might be found What secret smart I suffer by the same. Songs of Sundrie Natures. $7 The Third Part. If Love be just, then just is my desire, And if unjust, why is he call'd a god ? O god, O good, O just, reserve thy rod To chasten those that from thy laws retire. But choose aright, good Love, I thee require, The golden head Not that of lead ; Her heart is frost and must dissolve by fire. ¥?¥ O LORD, my God, let flesh and blood Thy servant not subdue, Nor let the world deceive me with His glory most untrue. Let not, O Lord, O mighty God, Let not Thy mortal foe, Let not the fiend with all his craft Thy servant overthrow. But to resist give fortitude, Give patience to endure, Give constancy that always Thine I may persever sure. 38 William Byrd's While that the sun with his beams hot Scorched the fruits in vale and mountain, Philon the shepherd late forgot Sitting beside a crystal fountain In shadow of a green oak tree, Upon his pipe this song play'd he: Adieu love, adieu love, untrue love! Untrue love, untrue love, adieu love! Your mind is light, soon lost for new love. So long as I was in your sight I was your heart, your soul, your treasure ; And evermore you sobb'd and sigh'd, Burning in flames beyond all measure. Three days endur'd your love to me And it was lost in other three. Adieu love, adieu love, untrue love ! Untrue love, untrue love, adieu love ! Your mind is light, soon lost for new love. Another shepherd you did see To whom your heart was soon enchained ; Full soon your love was leapt from me, Full soon my place he had obtained. Soon came a third your love to win, And we were out, and he was in. Adieu love, adieu love, untrue love! Untrue love, untrue love, adieu love ! Your mind is light, soon lost for new love. Songs of Sundrie Natures. 39 Sure you have made me passing glad That you your mind so soon removed, Before that I the leisure had To choose you for my best beloved. For all my love was past and done Two days before it was begun Adieu love, adieu love, untrue love! Untrue love, untrue love, adieu love ! Your mind is light, soon lost for new love. #^^ WEEPING full sore, with face as fair as silver, Not wanting rose nor lily white to paint it, I saw a lady walk fast by a river Upon whose banks Diana's nymphs all danced. Her beauty great had divers gods enchanted Among the which Love was the first transformed, Who unto her his bow and shafts had granted, And by her sight to adamant was turned. Alas, quoth I, what meaneth this demeanour? So fair a dame to be so full of sorrow. No wonder, quoth a nymph, she wanteth pleasure, Her tears and sighs ne cease from eve to morrow. This Lady Rich is of the gifts of beauty, But unto her are gifts of fortune dainty. *^^ 4