Ay me; can every rumour Thus start my lady’s humour? Name ye some gallant to her Why straight forsooth I woo her. Then burst she forth in passion:

Ye that do live in pleasures plent… and dwell in Music’s sweetest Air… whose eyes are quick, whose ears a… not clogg’d with earth or worldly… come sing this song, made in Amphi…

Stay, Corydon, thou swain, Talk not so soon of dying: What though thy heart be slain, What though thy love be flying? She threatens thee, but dares not…

O fools! can you not see a traffic… In my sweet lady’s face, where nat… Whatever treasure eye sees or hear… Rubies and diamonds dainty, And orient pearls such plenty,

Draw on, Sweet Night, friend unto… That do arise from painful melanch… My life so ill through want of com… that unto thee I consecrate it who… Sweet Night, draw on

O, what shall I do, or whither sh… Shall I make unto her eyes? O, no… Shall I seal up my eyes and speak… Then in a flood of tears I drown… For tears being stopped will swell…

Thus love commands, that I in vai… And sorrow will that she shall sti… Yet did I hope, which hope my lif… To hear her say, alas! His love w…

Down in a valley as Alexis trips, Daphne sat sweetly sleeping. Soon as the wanton touch’€™d her r… She nicely falls aweeping. The wag full softly lifts her,

I fall, I fall, O stay me, Dear love, with joys you slay me, Of life your lips deprive me, Sweet, let your lips revive me, O whither are you hasting,

My throat is sore, my voice is hoa… My rests are sighs, deep from the… My song runs all on sharps, and wi… Time on my breast, I shrink with… Thus still, and still I sing, and…

All pleasure is of this condition, It pricks men forward to fruition, But if enjoy’d, then like the humm… The honey being shed, away doth fl… But leaves a sting, that wounds th…

Thou art but young, thou say’€™st, And love’€™s delight thou weigh’€™… Oh! take time while thou may’€™st, Lest, when thou would’€™st, thou m… If love shall then assail thee,

Happy streams, whose trembling fal… With still murmur softly gliding, Happy birds, whose chirping call, With sweet melody delighting, Hath mov’d her flinty and relentle…

Weep, O mine eyes and cease not, Out alas, these your spring tides… O when begin you to swell so high that I may drown…

Away, thou shalt not love me. So shall my love seem greater And I shall love the better. Shall it be so? what say you? Why speak you not I pray you?