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Add. ms. 53723 : Henry Lawes's autograph

Author: Henry Lawes; Elise Bickford Jorgens; British Library.
Publisher: New York : Garland, 1986.
Series: English song, 1600-1675, 3.; English song, 1600-1675., British Library manuscripts ;, pt. 3.
Edition/Format:   Musical score : Songs : EnglishView all editions and formats
Database:WorldCat
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Genre/Form: Manuscripts Facsimiles
Named Person: Henry Lawes
Document Type: Musical Score
All Authors / Contributors: Henry Lawes; Elise Bickford Jorgens; British Library.
ISBN: 0824082338 9780824082338
OCLC Number: 13793022
Notes: Songs for voice and continuo.
English (principally) and Italian words.
Description: 1 score (xvii, 184 [i.e. 368] p.) ; 31 cm.
Contents: I rise, & greive, I walke & se my sorrow --
My lute, wthin thy selfe, thy tunes enclose --
Greife com away and doe not thou refuse --
Though my torment farr exceedes --
O yt joye soe soone should waste --
Ah loue! where is thy abydinge --
Speake, speake, at last replye --
Or you, or I! Nature did wronge --
Marke well this stone! it hydes a precious tresure --
Hard harted faire, if thou wilt not consent --
If I freely may discouer --
One wth admiration tolde me --
Unto the soundles vaultes of Hell below --
Deere, thy face is Heau'n to me --
As on a daye Clorinda fayre was bathinge --
When I adore you and you haue me in scorne --
Fye away fye what meane you by this --
O let me groane one word into thyne Eare --
Sweet staye a whyle whye doe you rise --
Unto the soundles vaults of hell below [some variants in both treble and bass] --
O sweet woodes, ye delight of sollitarines --
Falce loue awaye, & all my sighes send back --
Thou by ye pleasant springe shalt lye --
I loud [=loved] thee once I'le loue noe more --
Disdaine me not sweet loue though I be ould --
Must I in my most hopefull yeares, at once refraine --
Sweet lady & sole mistres of my loue --
Oh, oh, where shall I lament --
Breake hart in twayne, fayre Ronile may se --
Twixt hope & feare ye best affection sits. A dialogue --
Can soe much beautye owne a mynde --
Transcendent beautye, thou yt art --
Since ev'rye man I com amonge [bass incomplete] --
More then most fayre [bass incomplete] --
Sweet louely nimphe, whose eyes doe moue me. A dialogue --
Woe is mee, woe is mee, yt I from Israel --
Like to ye damaske rose you see --
Hard harted fayre if thou wilt not consent [some variants in both treble and bass] --
Weep not my deere, for I shall goe --
Sleep ould man let sylence charme thee --
Sweet I am not come too soone --
Sorrow, in vayne, why doost thou seeke to tempt --
Wherfore peepst thou envious daye --
Sweet doe not frowne on me though I must goe --
Sacred Flora crowne this ffeild --
Haue I watcht the winters nyght --
Slyde softe, yea siluer floods --
If my mistris fyx her eye --
Doe not delaye me though you haue the powre --
Celia, thy sweet angels face --
Though you on seas in stormes haue bin --
I haue praysd wth all my skill --
Rejoyce whyle in thy youth thou art --
What man would sojourne heer --
Harke how ye nightingale displayes --
Sweet death com vissit my sicke hart --
She is too cruell, alas too cruell --
Seest thou those dyamonds wch she weares --
Ile tell you how ye rose --
You are fayre, and louely too --
Be not proud, nor coye nor cruell --
Breake eart in twayne --
I prithee sweet to me be kinde --
Giue back my hart againe to me --
My sweetest byrde that art incaged heere --
Tis Christmas now, 'tis Christmas now --
Why should only man be tyde --
Cease, sorrow cease, & doe noe more torment --
Hence vayne delights be gone --
Though Cupid be a god, alass hee's but a boye --
Cupid thou art a sluggish boye --
Deere leave thy home, and com wth me --
Beautyes haue yee seene a toye --
From ye Heau'ns, now I flye [bass incomplete] --
Sweet Eccho, sweetest nimphe that liu'st vnseene --
Sabrina, Sabrina fayre, listne where thou art sittinge --
Back shepperds back --
Now my taske is smoothly done --
Out uppon it I haue lou'de --
Com my sweet whylst eu'rye strayne --
Com from the dungeon to the throne --
Com heauye soules, oppressed wth ye weight of crymes --
Staye, staye ould tyme, repose thy restles winges --
Whyther soe gladly and soe fast --
Bacchus, I-Accus, fill our braines --
Goe naked truth, and let thy bashfull teares --
Haue pittye greife --
Wooe then the Heauens --
Cruell! but once againe --
Deere turne a waye thyne eyes soe bright --
O smoother me to death --
Ould poets Hypocreene admyre --
Wert thou yet fayrer then thou art --
Whyther are all her falce oathes blowne --
Death cannot yet extinguish that entyre pure flame --
What shall I doe I'ue lost my hart --
I am confirmde a woman can --
See see how careles men are growne. Cast a way those silkne clouds --
Set to ye sun a dyall yt doth pass --
Amoret, the milkye waye --
'Tis but a frowne, I prithee let me dye --
Behold and listne whylst ye faire --
Tell me not I my tyme mispend --
Will you know my mistris face --
Pale inke, thou art not black enough of hew --
Noe noe faire herritick --
When thou faire Celia like the setting sunn --
Thy beauty Israell --
Com o com I brooke noe staye --
Keep on yor veile & hyde yoor eye --
O now the certaine cause I know --
Lou'ly Cloris though thyne eyes --
Sure thou framed wert by art --
Restles streame thy self persuinge --
Com, com sad turtle mateles moaninge --
Faine would I Cloris (Ere I dye) --
Come louers all to mee, and cease yor mourninge --
Was it a forme, a gate, a grace --
Staye, staye Aeneas, for thyne owne sake staye --
Admit thou darlinge of myne eyes [treble only] --
Deerest doe not now delaye me --
Why stayes my floramell where loue --
Sweet Morphe lend a feelinge eare --
Once Venus cheekes yt shamde the morne --
Ladyes, you yt seeme soe nice [treble only] --
If you can finde a hart sweet loue to kill --
I doe confess th'art smooth and faire --
Tell me noe more tis loue --
Ah, ah ye falce fatall tale I read --
Celia, thy sweet angels face [variants in rhythm] --
Sleep, sleep softe, you colde clay cindars --
Deere throw yt flattringe glass a way --
Greeue not deere loue, all though we often part --
Hither we com into this world of woe --
Yes, yes, 'tis Cloris singes, 'tis she --
What meanes this straungnes now of late --
Swift through ye yeildinge ayre I glyde --
Not that I wish my misteris or more or less --
Would you know what's softe --
Am I dispisde because you saye --
Her eyes, wch all ye world but me --
Sees not my loue how tyme resumes --
Cupid as he laye amonge roses --
One sylent night of late --
My mistris blushde and ther wth all --
Amarillis, by a springes (softe and soule meltinge,) murmeringes slept --
Goe, hunt the whyte ermin --
When thou art dead, and thinkst to com into Elizium --
Bid me but liue ["to" amended to "but"] --
About the sweet bagg of a bee --
Heau'n & beautye are aly'de --
Com louly Phillis, since it thy will is --
Farwell faire Sainct, may not ye seas --
Amonge the myrtles as I walk'de --
Thou shepperd, whose intentiue eye --
The god of loue my shepperd is --
Venus redres a wronge thats done --
Canst thou loue me and yet doubt --
When wee were parted --
Aske me why I send you heere --
Com Cloris, hye we to ye bowre --
Celia turnes awaye her eyes --
Cloris, since my death doth com from you --
Where shall my troubled soule --
A louer once I did espye --
Thou art so faire, & younge wthall --
Till now I never did beleiue --
Must we be devyded now --
Though my bodye be restrain'd --
Whyle I listne to thy voice --
Noe, she ne're lou'de, twas the excess of myne --
Lately on yonder swellinge bush --
It is not that I loue you less --
Not careinge to obserue the wynde --
Loue chill wth colde & missinge in the skies --
Our sighes are heard --
Phillis why should we delay --
I loue thee for thy ficklnes & great inconstancye --
Loue thee, good faith not I --
Saye, must wee part, sweet mercies bless us both --
Those curious locks soe aptly twynde --
Hence vaine intruder haste awaye --
Goe thou gentle whis'pringe winde --
Careles of loue & free from feares --
I'le gaze noe more on her bewitchinge face --
I burne, and cruell you (in vayne) --
If the quick spirrits in yor eye --
How ill doth he deserue a louers name --
All ye workes of nature are defectiue --
You that thinke loue can convaye --
Cloris, since first our calme of peace was frighted --
Happye youth, that shalt posses --
Feare not deer loue yt Ile reveale --
Let fooles, great Cupids yoake disdaine --
If when ye sun at noone displayes --
When this flye liu'de --
Wonder not though I am blynde [treble only] --
I prithee loue take heed --
He yt loues a rosye cheeke [treble only] --
Reade in these roses, ye sad stourye --
Vnfolde thyne armes & let me goe --
Ladyes fly from loues smooth tale --
Gaze not on thy beautyes pryde --
When on ye alter of my hand. When thou, poore excomunicate --
I was foretolde yor rebell sex --
Delicate beautye whye should you disdayne --
Harke, harke how my Celia [treble only] --
Seeke not to know my loue --
Noe more blinde god --
Feare not deere loue [bass incomplete] --
Know Celia, since thou art soe proude --
Giue me more loue or more disdayne --
Saye coward blood --
That lov'lye spott --
Poor pensive I o're chargde wth woe --
Sweetly breathinge vernall aire --
Wherfore doe thy sad numbers flow [treble only] --
Looke sweetest Doris --
Still Amathea thou art fayre --
Taught from yor artfull straines my faire --
In Celia's face a question did arise --
Had I a trumpet, and that trumpet fames --
Unfolde thyne armes & let me goe [slight rhythmic and ornamental variants] --
Cloris farwell I now must goe --
Greedye louer pause a whyle --
Theseous! o theseus heark! but yet in vaine [incomplete] --
Beautye once blasted wth the ffrost of age --
To loue thee wthout flattrye were a sinn --
I prithee send me back my hart --
Whye up soe earlye in ye world; to ye first object yt euer gaue true content --
Forgiue me loue, what haue done? A recantation --
Com, com thou gloryous object of my syght --
To man that was i'th eu'ninge made --
They that never had the vse --
Though thou hast witt and beautye too --
Ha! Posanes, by my loss of peace 'tis shee --
Gaze not on swans --
On a cleere morne as phoebus run his race --
In loue! away, you doe me wronge --
O let me still, & sylent lye --
Be not proud, cause faire and trymme --
Noe, noe I never was in loue --
Fond woman thou mistakst thy marke --
Let me alone, I'le loue noe more --
Imbre lachrymarum largo. An eccho --
As sad Amintor in a meadow laye --
Oh, now I fynde tis nought but fate --
Thrice happye is that humble payre --
Stand still yee floods --
When you the sun-burnt pilgrim see --
Tell mee yee wandringe spirrits of ye ayre --
Cloris now thou art fled awaye --
The chyldishe god of loue did sweare --
Take heed bould louer doe not looke --
Haue you eare seene the morninge sunn --
Cloris when I to thee present --
By all thy gloryes willingly I goe --
My wandringe thoughts haue travelde rounde --
O del sol piu luccente, echi non brama --
Lasso, perche mi fuggi --
Amarantha sweet and fayre --
What! wilt thou pyne, or fall awaye --
If to be absent, were to be, awaye from thee --
See Cloris see how nature bringes --
See, see! my Cloris, my Cloris comes --
O I am sick, I am sick to death --
Take heed fayre Cloris how you tame --
Staye, staye, you greedye merchants staye --
O tell me loue, o tell me fate --
How happi'art thou & I --
How cruels love when shees too kinde --
If thou dost loue me as thou sayst --
Goe little winged archer & convay --
Beautye & loue, once fell at ods --
Mourne, mourne with me --
Cloris, when eare you doe intend --
When as Leander, (younge) was drownde --
Noe falce, noe faithles Lindamore --
Now I greiue that I am well --
Begone, begone, thou perjurde man --
On this swellinge banke --
Her eyes the glow-worme lend thee --
Let longinge louers sit and pyne --
How coole and temp'rate I am growne --
Com Cloris leaue thy wand'ringe sheepe --
Harke! harke how Belona thunders --
Help! help! o help! devinitye of loue --
Noe more of loue, noe more of hate --
How longe shall I a martyr be --
Since fate commaunds me hence --
Blacke as thy louely eyes --
Did I saye that thou wert fayre --
When shall I see my captiue hart --
Goe louely rose, tell her that wasts her tyme [treble only] --
Art thou in loue? it cannot be --
Let not thy beautye make thee proude --
O fayre Astrea, whyther, whyther art thou gone --
The turtle is a simple byrde --
Noe, twas her eyes, starrs haue no influence --
When as black night, her vaile displayes --
Harke, harke, methinkes I heer loue saye --
Little loue serues my turne --
Those heau'nly rayes of thyne --
Wher shall a man an object finde --
Faine would I loue --
Goe younge man let my hart alone --
O turne awaye those cruell eyes --
Thou art heau'n Olimpia --
Noe more of teares; I'ue now noe more --
Lagrimas que no pudieron --
Goe fayre inchantres, charme noe more --
Ofte haue I swore I'de loue noe more --
How sad's a scorched louers fate [treble only] --
Cloris yor selfe you soe excell --
Treadinge the pathe to nobler ends [treble only] --
Cruda Amarrilli, che col nome [treble only] --
Since thou wilt goe fond hart --
Tis not thy well-mixed red & whyte --
Ladyes, whoe gilde ye glitteringe noone --
Alas poore Cupid art thou blynde --
A willow garland thou didst send --
When I adore thee, (sweet) & implore thee, for ye gittar --
If I seek t'enjoy ye fruit of my paine [text only] --
Art thou gone in haste [treble only].
Series Title: English song, 1600-1675, 3.; English song, 1600-1675., British Library manuscripts ;, pt. 3.
Other Titles: Songs.
Responsibility: introduction by Elise Bickford Jorgens.

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schema:datePublished"1986"
schema:description"I rise, & greive, I walke & se my sorrow -- My lute, wthin thy selfe, thy tunes enclose -- Greife com away and doe not thou refuse -- Though my torment farr exceedes -- O yt joye soe soone should waste -- Ah loue! where is thy abydinge -- Speake, speake, at last replye -- Or you, or I! Nature did wronge -- Marke well this stone! it hydes a precious tresure -- Hard harted faire, if thou wilt not consent -- If I freely may discouer -- One wth admiration tolde me -- Unto the soundles vaultes of Hell below -- Deere, thy face is Heau'n to me -- As on a daye Clorinda fayre was bathinge -- When I adore you and you haue me in scorne -- Fye away fye what meane you by this -- O let me groane one word into thyne Eare -- Sweet staye a whyle whye doe you rise -- Unto the soundles vaults of hell below [some variants in both treble and bass] -- O sweet woodes, ye delight of sollitarines -- Falce loue awaye, & all my sighes send back -- Thou by ye pleasant springe shalt lye -- I loud [=loved] thee once I'le loue noe more -- Disdaine me not sweet loue though I be ould -- Must I in my most hopefull yeares, at once refraine -- Sweet lady & sole mistres of my loue -- Oh, oh, where shall I lament -- Breake hart in twayne, fayre Ronile may se -- Twixt hope & feare ye best affection sits. A dialogue -- Can soe much beautye owne a mynde -- Transcendent beautye, thou yt art -- Since ev'rye man I com amonge [bass incomplete] -- More then most fayre [bass incomplete] -- Sweet louely nimphe, whose eyes doe moue me. A dialogue -- Woe is mee, woe is mee, yt I from Israel -- Like to ye damaske rose you see -- Hard harted fayre if thou wilt not consent [some variants in both treble and bass] -- Weep not my deere, for I shall goe -- Sleep ould man let sylence charme thee -- Sweet I am not come too soone -- Sorrow, in vayne, why doost thou seeke to tempt -- Wherfore peepst thou envious daye -- Sweet doe not frowne on me though I must goe -- Sacred Flora crowne this ffeild -- Haue I watcht the winters nyght -- Slyde softe, yea siluer floods -- If my mistris fyx her eye -- Doe not delaye me though you haue the powre -- Celia, thy sweet angels face -- Though you on seas in stormes haue bin -- I haue praysd wth all my skill -- Rejoyce whyle in thy youth thou art -- What man would sojourne heer -- Harke how ye nightingale displayes -- Sweet death com vissit my sicke hart -- She is too cruell, alas too cruell -- Seest thou those dyamonds wch she weares -- Ile tell you how ye rose -- You are fayre, and louely too -- Be not proud, nor coye nor cruell -- Breake eart in twayne -- I prithee sweet to me be kinde -- Giue back my hart againe to me -- My sweetest byrde that art incaged heere -- Tis Christmas now, 'tis Christmas now -- Why should only man be tyde -- Cease, sorrow cease, & doe noe more torment -- Hence vayne delights be gone -- Though Cupid be a god, alass hee's but a boye -- Cupid thou art a sluggish boye -- Deere leave thy home, and com wth me -- Beautyes haue yee seene a toye -- From ye Heau'ns, now I flye [bass incomplete] -- Sweet Eccho, sweetest nimphe that liu'st vnseene -- Sabrina, Sabrina fayre, listne where thou art sittinge -- Back shepperds back -- Now my taske is smoothly done -- Out uppon it I haue lou'de -- Com my sweet whylst eu'rye strayne -- Com from the dungeon to the throne -- Com heauye soules, oppressed wth ye weight of crymes -- Staye, staye ould tyme, repose thy restles winges -- Whyther soe gladly and soe fast -- Bacchus, I-Accus, fill our braines -- Goe naked truth, and let thy bashfull teares -- Haue pittye greife -- Wooe then the Heauens -- Cruell! but once againe -- Deere turne a waye thyne eyes soe bright -- O smoother me to death -- Ould poets Hypocreene admyre -- Wert thou yet fayrer then thou art -- Whyther are all her falce oathes blowne -- Death cannot yet extinguish that entyre pure flame -- What shall I doe I'ue lost my hart -- I am confirmde a woman can -- See see how careles men are growne."@en
schema:description"When thou, poore excomunicate -- I was foretolde yor rebell sex -- Delicate beautye whye should you disdayne -- Harke, harke how my Celia [treble only] -- Seeke not to know my loue -- Noe more blinde god -- Feare not deere loue [bass incomplete] -- Know Celia, since thou art soe proude -- Giue me more loue or more disdayne -- Saye coward blood -- That lov'lye spott -- Poor pensive I o're chargde wth woe -- Sweetly breathinge vernall aire -- Wherfore doe thy sad numbers flow [treble only] -- Looke sweetest Doris -- Still Amathea thou art fayre -- Taught from yor artfull straines my faire -- In Celia's face a question did arise -- Had I a trumpet, and that trumpet fames -- Unfolde thyne armes & let me goe [slight rhythmic and ornamental variants] -- Cloris farwell I now must goe -- Greedye louer pause a whyle -- Theseous! o theseus heark! but yet in vaine [incomplete] -- Beautye once blasted wth the ffrost of age -- To loue thee wthout flattrye were a sinn -- I prithee send me back my hart -- Whye up soe earlye in ye world; to ye first object yt euer gaue true content -- Forgiue me loue, what haue done? A recantation -- Com, com thou gloryous object of my syght -- To man that was i'th eu'ninge made -- They that never had the vse -- Though thou hast witt and beautye too -- Ha! Posanes, by my loss of peace 'tis shee -- Gaze not on swans -- On a cleere morne as phoebus run his race -- In loue! away, you doe me wronge -- O let me still, & sylent lye -- Be not proud, cause faire and trymme -- Noe, noe I never was in loue -- Fond woman thou mistakst thy marke -- Let me alone, I'le loue noe more -- Imbre lachrymarum largo. An eccho -- As sad Amintor in a meadow laye -- Oh, now I fynde tis nought but fate -- Thrice happye is that humble payre -- Stand still yee floods -- When you the sun-burnt pilgrim see -- Tell mee yee wandringe spirrits of ye ayre -- Cloris now thou art fled awaye -- The chyldishe god of loue did sweare -- Take heed bould louer doe not looke -- Haue you eare seene the morninge sunn -- Cloris when I to thee present -- By all thy gloryes willingly I goe -- My wandringe thoughts haue travelde rounde -- O del sol piu luccente, echi non brama -- Lasso, perche mi fuggi -- Amarantha sweet and fayre -- What! wilt thou pyne, or fall awaye -- If to be absent, were to be, awaye from thee -- See Cloris see how nature bringes -- See, see! my Cloris, my Cloris comes -- O I am sick, I am sick to death -- Take heed fayre Cloris how you tame -- Staye, staye, you greedye merchants staye -- O tell me loue, o tell me fate -- How happi'art thou & I -- How cruels love when shees too kinde -- If thou dost loue me as thou sayst -- Goe little winged archer & convay -- Beautye & loue, once fell at ods -- Mourne, mourne with me -- Cloris, when eare you doe intend -- When as Leander, (younge) was drownde -- Noe falce, noe faithles Lindamore -- Now I greiue that I am well -- Begone, begone, thou perjurde man -- On this swellinge banke -- Her eyes the glow-worme lend thee -- Let longinge louers sit and pyne -- How coole and temp'rate I am growne -- Com Cloris leaue thy wand'ringe sheepe -- Harke! harke how Belona thunders -- Help! help! o help! devinitye of loue -- Noe more of loue, noe more of hate -- How longe shall I a martyr be -- Since fate commaunds me hence -- Blacke as thy louely eyes -- Did I saye that thou wert fayre -- When shall I see my captiue hart -- Goe louely rose, tell her that wasts her tyme [treble only] -- Art thou in loue? it cannot be -- Let not thy beautye make thee proude -- O fayre Astrea, whyther, whyther art thou gone -- The turtle is a simple byrde -- Noe, twas her eyes, starrs haue no influence -- When as black night, her vaile displayes -- Harke, harke, methinkes I heer loue saye -- Little loue serues my turne -- Those heau'nly rayes of thyne -- Wher shall a man an object finde -- Faine would I loue -- Goe younge man let my hart alone -- O turne awaye those cruell eyes -- Thou art heau'n Olimpia -- Noe more of teares; I'ue now noe more -- Lagrimas que no pudieron -- Goe fayre inchantres, charme noe more -- Ofte haue I swore I'de loue noe more -- How sad's a scorched louers fate [treble only] -- Cloris yor selfe you soe excell -- Treadinge the pathe to nobler ends [treble only] -- Cruda Amarrilli, che col nome [treble only] -- Since thou wilt goe fond hart -- Tis not thy well-mixed red & whyte -- Ladyes, whoe gilde ye glitteringe noone -- Alas poore Cupid art thou blynde -- A willow garland thou didst send -- When I adore thee, (sweet) & implore thee, for ye gittar -- If I seek t'enjoy ye fruit of my paine [text only] -- Art thou gone in haste [treble only]."@en
schema:description"Cast a way those silkne clouds -- Set to ye sun a dyall yt doth pass -- Amoret, the milkye waye -- 'Tis but a frowne, I prithee let me dye -- Behold and listne whylst ye faire -- Tell me not I my tyme mispend -- Will you know my mistris face -- Pale inke, thou art not black enough of hew -- Noe noe faire herritick -- When thou faire Celia like the setting sunn -- Thy beauty Israell -- Com o com I brooke noe staye -- Keep on yor veile & hyde yoor eye -- O now the certaine cause I know -- Lou'ly Cloris though thyne eyes -- Sure thou framed wert by art -- Restles streame thy self persuinge -- Com, com sad turtle mateles moaninge -- Faine would I Cloris (Ere I dye) -- Come louers all to mee, and cease yor mourninge -- Was it a forme, a gate, a grace -- Staye, staye Aeneas, for thyne owne sake staye -- Admit thou darlinge of myne eyes [treble only] -- Deerest doe not now delaye me -- Why stayes my floramell where loue -- Sweet Morphe lend a feelinge eare -- Once Venus cheekes yt shamde the morne -- Ladyes, you yt seeme soe nice [treble only] -- If you can finde a hart sweet loue to kill -- I doe confess th'art smooth and faire -- Tell me noe more tis loue -- Ah, ah ye falce fatall tale I read -- Celia, thy sweet angels face [variants in rhythm] -- Sleep, sleep softe, you colde clay cindars -- Deere throw yt flattringe glass a way -- Greeue not deere loue, all though we often part -- Hither we com into this world of woe -- Yes, yes, 'tis Cloris singes, 'tis she -- What meanes this straungnes now of late -- Swift through ye yeildinge ayre I glyde -- Not that I wish my misteris or more or less -- Would you know what's softe -- Am I dispisde because you saye -- Her eyes, wch all ye world but me -- Sees not my loue how tyme resumes -- Cupid as he laye amonge roses -- One sylent night of late -- My mistris blushde and ther wth all -- Amarillis, by a springes (softe and soule meltinge,) murmeringes slept -- Goe, hunt the whyte ermin -- When thou art dead, and thinkst to com into Elizium -- Bid me but liue ["to" amended to "but"] -- About the sweet bagg of a bee -- Heau'n & beautye are aly'de -- Com louly Phillis, since it thy will is -- Farwell faire Sainct, may not ye seas -- Amonge the myrtles as I walk'de -- Thou shepperd, whose intentiue eye -- The god of loue my shepperd is -- Venus redres a wronge thats done -- Canst thou loue me and yet doubt -- When wee were parted -- Aske me why I send you heere -- Com Cloris, hye we to ye bowre -- Celia turnes awaye her eyes -- Cloris, since my death doth com from you -- Where shall my troubled soule -- A louer once I did espye -- Thou art so faire, & younge wthall -- Till now I never did beleiue -- Must we be devyded now -- Though my bodye be restrain'd -- Whyle I listne to thy voice -- Noe, she ne're lou'de, twas the excess of myne -- Lately on yonder swellinge bush -- It is not that I loue you less -- Not careinge to obserue the wynde -- Loue chill wth colde & missinge in the skies -- Our sighes are heard -- Phillis why should we delay -- I loue thee for thy ficklnes & great inconstancye -- Loue thee, good faith not I -- Saye, must wee part, sweet mercies bless us both -- Those curious locks soe aptly twynde -- Hence vaine intruder haste awaye -- Goe thou gentle whis'pringe winde -- Careles of loue & free from feares -- I'le gaze noe more on her bewitchinge face -- I burne, and cruell you (in vayne) -- If the quick spirrits in yor eye -- How ill doth he deserue a louers name -- All ye workes of nature are defectiue -- You that thinke loue can convaye -- Cloris, since first our calme of peace was frighted -- Happye youth, that shalt posses -- Feare not deer loue yt Ile reveale -- Let fooles, great Cupids yoake disdaine -- If when ye sun at noone displayes -- When this flye liu'de -- Wonder not though I am blynde [treble only] -- I prithee loue take heed -- He yt loues a rosye cheeke [treble only] -- Reade in these roses, ye sad stourye -- Vnfolde thyne armes & let me goe -- Ladyes fly from loues smooth tale -- Gaze not on thy beautyes pryde -- When on ye alter of my hand."@en
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schema:genre"Manuscripts"@en
schema:genre"Facsimiles"@en
schema:inLanguage"en"
schema:name"Add. ms. 53723 : Henry Lawes's autograph"@en
schema:publisher
schema:url
schema:workExample

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