1. |
Unquiet Thoughts
04:11
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Unquiet thoughts your civill slaughter stint,
And wrap your wrongs within a pensive heart:
And you my tongue that maks my mouth a minte,
And stamps my thoughts to coyne them words by arte:
Be still for if you ever doo the like,
Ile cut the string, that maks the hammer strike.
But what can staie my thoughts they may not start,
Or put my tongue in durance for to dye?
When as these eies the keyes of mouth and harte
Open the locke where all my love doth lye;
Ile seale them up within their lids for ever,
So thoughts and words, and looks shall dye together.
How shall I then gaze on my mistresse eies?
My thoughts must have som vent els hart wil break,
My tongue would rust as in my mouth it lies
If eyes and thoughts were free and that not speake.
Speake then and tell the passions of desire
Which turns mine eies to floods, my thoghts to fire.
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2. |
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All ye whom love or fortune hath betraide.
Al ye whom love or fortune hath betraide,
All ye that dreame of blisse but live in greif,
Al ye whose hopes are evermore delaid,
All ye whose sighes or sicknes wants releif:
Lend eares and teares to me most haples man,
That sings my sorrewes like the dying Swanne.
Care that consumes the heart with inward paine,
Paine that presents sad care in outward vew,
Both tyrant like enforce me to complaine,
But still in vaine, for none my plaints will rue.
Teares, sighes, and ceaselesse cries alone I spend,
My woe wants comfort, and my sorrow end.
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3. |
Dear if you change
03:03
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Deare, if you change, ile neuer chuse againe.
Sweet, if you shrinke, Ile neuer thinke of loue.
Faire, if you faile, ile iudge all beautie vaine.
Wise, if too weake, moe wits Ile neuer proue.
Deare, sweet, faire, wise,
change, shrink, nor be not weake:
And, on my faith, my faith shall never breake.
Earth with her flowers shall sooner heauen adorne,
Heauen her bright starres through earths dim globe shall moue,
Fire heate shall lose, and frosts of flames be borne,
Ayre made to shine as blacke as hell shall proue:
Earth, heauen, fire, ayre,
the world transform'd shall view,
Ere I proue false to faith, or strange to you.
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4. |
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Can shee excuse my wrongs with vertues cloak?
Shall I call her good when she proues vnkind?
Are those cleer fires which vanish into smoak?
Must I praise the leaues where no fruit I find?
No no: where shadows do for bodies stand,
Thou maist be abusde if thy sight be dim.
Cold love is like to words written on sand,
Or to bubbles which on the water swim.
Wilt thou be thus abused still,
Seeing that she wil right thee neuer?
If thou canst not orecome her will,
Thy loue wil be thus fruitles euer.
Was I so base, that I might not aspire,
Vnto those high ioyes which she holds from me?
As they are high, so high is my desire:
If she this denie, what can granted be?
If she will yeeld to that which reason is,
It is reasons will that loue should be iust.
Deare make me happy still by granting this,
Or cut off delayes if that die I must.
Better a thousand times to die,
Then for to liue thus still tormented:
Deare but remember it was I,
Who for thy sake did die contented.
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5. |
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6. |
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The Sypres curten of the night is spread,
And ouer all a silent dewe is cast,
The weaker cares by sleepe are conquered,
But I alone with hidious griefe, agast.
In spite of Morpheus charmes a watch doe keepe
Ouer mine eies to banish carelesse sleepe.
Yet oft my trembling eyes through faintnes close,
And then the Mappe of hell before me stands,
Which Ghosts doe see, and I am one of those,
Ordain'd to pine in sorrowes endles bands,
Since from my wretched soule all hopes are reft,
And now no cause of life to me is left.
Griefe ceaze my soule, for that will still endure,
When my cras'd bodie is consum'd and gone,
Beare it to thy blacke denne, there keepe it sure,
Where thou ten thousand soules doest tyre vpon,
Yet all doe not affoord such foode to thee,
As this poore one, the worser part of mee.
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7. |
Author of Light
03:49
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Author of light reviue my dying spright,
Redeeme it from the snares
of all-confounding night.
Lord, light me to thy blessed way:
For blinde with worldly vaine desires
I wander as a stray.
Sunne and Moone, Starres and vnderlights I see,
But all their glorious beames
are mists and darknes being compar'd to thee.
Fountaine of health my soules deepe wounds recure,
Sweet showres of pitty raine,
wash my vncleannesse pure.
One drop of thy desired grace
The faint and fading hart can raise,
and in ioyes bosome place.
Sinne and Death, Hell and tempting Fiends may rage;
But God his owne will guard,
and their sharp paines and griefe in time assuage.
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8. |
Over these brooks
06:51
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Ouer these brookes trusting to ease mine eies,
Mine eies euen great in labour with her teares,
I laid my face, my face wherein there lies
Clusters of clowdes which no sunne euer cleeres,
In watry glasse, my watry eies I see
Sorrowes ill eased where sorrowes painted be.
My thoughts imprisoned in my secret woes,
With flamie breathes, doe issue oft in sound,
The sound to this strange aire no sooner goes,
But that it doth with Eccoes force rebound,
And make me heare the plaints I would refraine,
Thus outward helpes my inward griefes maintaine.
Now in this sand I would discharge my mind,
And cast from me part of my burdnous cares,
But in the sand my tales foretold I find,
And see therein how well the waters fares,
Since streams, ayre, sand, mine eyes and eares conspire,
What hope to quench, when each thing blowes the fire.
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9. |
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O deere life when shall it be
That mine eyes thine eyes may see,
And in them thy minde discouer,
Whether absence hath had force,
Thy remembrance to diuorce,
From the Image of thy Louer?
O if I my selfe finde not,
By thine absence oft forgot,
Nor debarde from Beauties treasure:
Let no Tongue aspire to tell
In what high [ioyes] I shall dwell,
Onely Thought aymes at the pleasure.
Thought therefore will I send thee,
To take vp the place for mee,
Long I will not after tarry:
There vnseene thou mayst be bolde
Those fayre wonders to behold,
Which in them my hopes doe carry.
Thought, see thou no place forbeare,
Enter brauely euery where,
Seize on all to her belonging:
But if thou wouldest guarded be,
Fearing her beames, take with thee,
Strength of liking, rage of longing.
O my Thoughts, my thoughts, surcease,
Your delights my woes increase,
My life fleetes with too much thinking.
Thinke no more, but dye in mee
Till thou shalt receiued be
At her lips my Nectar drinking.
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10. |
Time cruel time
02:56
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Tyme cruell tyme canst thou subdue that brow,
That conquers all but thee, and thee too stayes:
As if shee were exempt from scieth or bow,
From Loue and yeares vnsubiect to decayes.
Or art thou growne in league with those faire eyes,
That they might help thee to consume our dayes,
Or dost thou loue her for her cruelties,
Being mercilesse lyke thee that no man wayes?
Then doe so still although shee makes no steeme,
Of dayes nor yeares, but lets them run in vaine:
Hould still thy swift wing'd hours that wondring
Seeme to gase on her, euen to turne back againe.
And doe so still although she nothing cares,
Doe as I doe, loue her although vnkinde,
Hould still, yet O I feare at vnawares,
Thou wilt beguile her though thou seem'st so kinde.
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11. |
Rosa (lute solo)
05:07
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12. |
To ask for all thy love
02:47
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To aske for loue, and thy whole heart
t'were madnesse.
I doe not sue,
nor can admit
(Fairest) from you
to haue all yet.
Who giueth all hath nothing to impart, but sadnesse.
He that receiueth all, can haue no more
then seeing.
My Loue by length
of euery houre,
Gathers new strength,
new growth, new flower.
You must haue daily new rewards in store still being.
You cannot euery day giue me your heart
for merit:
Yet if you will,
when yours doth goe,
You shall haue still
one to bestow :
For you shall mine when yours doth part inherit.
Yet if you please, Ile finde a better way,
then change them :
For so alone
dearest we shall
Be one and one
anothers all.
Let vs so ioyne our hearts that nothing
may estrange them.
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13. |
I saw my Lady weep
04:13
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I saw my Lady weepe
and sorrow proud to bee aduanced so:
in those faire eies, where all perfecions keepe,
hir face was full of woe, but such a woe
(belieue me) as wins more hearts,
then mirth can doe, with hir intysing parts.
Sorow was there made faire,
And passion wise, teares a delightfull thing,
Silence beyond all speech a wisdome rare,
Shee made hir sighes to sing,
And all things with so sweet a sadnesse moue,
As made my heart at once both grieue and loue.
O fayrer then ought ells,
The world can shew, leaue of in time to grieue,
Inough, inough, your joyfull lookes excells,
Teares kills the heart belieue,
O striue not o bee excellent in woe,
Which onely breeds your beauties ouerhrow.
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14. |
Flow my tears
04:36
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Flow my teares fall from your springs,
Exilde for ever: let mee morne,
Where nights black bird hir sad infamy sings,
There let mee live forlorne.
Downe vaine lightes shine you no more,
No nights are dark enough for those
That in dispaire their last fortuns deplore,
Light doth but shame disclose.
Never may my woes be relieved,
Since pittie is fled,
And teares, and sighes, and grones my wearie dayes,
Of all joyes have deprived.
From the highest spire of contentment,
My fortune is throwne,
And feare, and griefe, and paine for my deserts
Are my hopes since hope is gone.
Harke you shadowes that in darcknesse dwell,
Learne to contemne light,
Happie, happie they that in hell
Feele not the worlds despite.
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15. |
Fantasia (lute solo)
03:15
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16. |
Sorrow stay
03:14
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Sorrow stay, lend true repentant teares,
To a woefull wretched wight,
Hence dispaire with thy tormenting feares:
Doe not, O doe not my heart, poor heart affright,
Pitty, pitty, pitty, help now or never,
Mark me not to endlesse paine,
Alas I am condempned ever,
No hope, no help, ther doth remaine,
But downe, downe, downe, downe I fall,
Downe, downe, downe, downe I fall,
Downe and arise, down and arise, I never shall.
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17. |
In darkness let me dwell
03:38
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In darknesse let me dwell
The ground shall sorrow be,
The roofe Dispaire to barre
all cheerfull light from mee,
The wals of marble blacke
that moistened still shall weepe,
My musicke hellish iarring sounds
to banish friendly sleepe.
Thus wedded to my woes,
and bedded to my Tombe,
O let me liuing die, Till death doe come,
In darknesse let mee dwell.
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Mignarda Cleveland Heights, Ohio
Mignarda specializes in thoughtful programming illuminating the vibrant mingling of renaissance music & poetry. Noted for awakening modern audiences to an appreciation for historical music, their work encompasses concertizing, teaching & recording, with 17 critically-acclaimed CDs, a series of 16 music editions, scholarly articles, reviews and the internationally-popular blog, Unquiet Thoughts. ... more
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