Cheerful airs OR BALLADS First composed for one single Voice and since set for three Voices BY JOHN WILSON DR in music Professor of the same in the UNIVERSITY OF OXFORD. OXFORD. Printed by W. HALL, for RIC. DAVIS. Anno Dom. M DC LX. THE PREFACE. SOme few of these airs were Originally composed by those whose names are affixed to them, but are here placed as being new set by the Author of the rest. CANTUS PRIMUS is a complete Book of itself, carrying the principal air to Sing alone with a through Base. CANTUS SECUNDUS and BASSUS are also printed singly to make two, or three Parts, as shall be requisite for the Company that will use them. This being the first Essay (for aught we understand) of printing music that ever was in Oxford, and the Printers being unacquainted with such Work, hath occasioned the faults hereafter mentioned, in this single Book, the greater number whereof are the omission of Moods, which are supplied in the other two Parts, and will be easily mended with a pen in this. The consideration of what is here premised, with assurance that the other two Parts are more correct, and a promise of better care in what shall issue from this press for the future will (Doubtless with unprejudiced Persons) procure pardon for the present Errata. ERRATA IN CANTUS PRIMUS. Mode wants. pag. 6. 26. 28. 30. 32. 34. 36. 38. 40. 53. 54. 57 58. 60. 62. 64. 67. 70. 73. 76. Page 13. l. 3. note 3. should stand in D la sol re. 33. l. 4. note 1. should stand in B me. 34. second bar & second line, a note wanting in C fa ut. the 4th line and second bar the semibrief should stand in B me. 49. two first notes of the 2d bar and 3d line should be flat and the semibrief in the 3d bar of the 4th line flat and the 2d note of the 5. line and first of the 6th line flat also. Page. 52. The last note of the forth line should stand in A re. 64. The first note of the sixth line should stand in D sol re. 65. The fift note of the last bar in the fift line, should be a Crotchet. 66. The last note of the Base should stand in C fa ut. 67. The semibrief of the third bar in the sixth line should stand in C fa ut. 93. The forth note in the 2d line should stand in G sol re ut. THE TABLE. Key Cant. 1. Cant. 2. Bassus. G sharp. When Troy town 2 2 2 From the fair Lavinian 3 3 3 Will you buy any honesty 4 4 4 Full Fathom five 6 5 5 Where the Bee sucks 8 6 6 When Love with 10 7 7 Have you any work 12 8 8 Come hither you that 14 10 10 Young Thirsis lay in 16 11 11 Kawasha comes in 18 12 12 Cast your Caps and 22 14 14 G flat Do not fear to put 24 16 16 Thoughts do not vex me 26 17 17 Who so complaineth 28 18 18 Come silent night 30 19 19 Come I faint 128 78 78 A Come constant hearts 32 20 20 Love and disdain 34 21 21 In a season. 36 22 22 Cupid thou art a 38 23 23 Though your strangeness 40 24 24 Ask me no more 42 25 33 Cloras' false Love 44 26 34 I Love (Alas) 46 27 35 A sharp If I die 48 28 36 Greedy Lover 50 29 37 B flat. Thine Eyes to me 53 31 39 Awake awake 54 32 40 I would have thee merry 57 42 42 In the merry month. 58 43 43 C flat. Fain would I Cloris 60 44 44 Dear give me a thousand 62 45 45 Lawn as white as driven 64 46 46 Go weather-beaten 67 48 48 Go restless thoughts 70 50 50 If my Lady bid begin 73 52 52 Boast not blind Boy 7● 54 55 When on mine Eyes ●● ●6 56 C sharp. Tell me where your 76 53 53 Come thou Father of 80 55 54 Sir this my little 82 56 56 D No Noah I tell thee no 84 57 57 For ever let 86 58 59 Fly hence shadows that 88 59 58 Since love hath brought 92 60 61 You heralds of my 94 62 63 Why thinkst thou fool 96 63 62 E flat Since Love hath in 90 61 60 When the clear Sun 98 64 64 Thou that excellest 106 67 67 I swear by muskadel 108 68 68 Fondness of Man 110 69 69 You say you love me 114 71 71 Hence with this Wedlook 116 72 72 So have I seen 118 73 73 Viwest thou that poor 120 74 74 If I must tell you 122 75 75 F flat What would any man 103 66 66 Down be still you seas 112 70 70 Be not thou so foolish 126 77 77 F sharp God Lyeus 130 79 79 Not Roses couched 132 80 80 So many Loves have I 134 81 81 Now the Lusty spring 136 82 82 Whereforè peepest thou 138 83 83 Turn thy beauteous face 140 84 84 When I beheld my 142 85 85 My Love and I 144 86 86 In a vale with flowrets 146 87 87 To the ever honoured Dr JOHN WILSON on his incomparable Book of Ballads. NOt as a bush to thy more noble wine. Do we prefix these lines; what ever's thine Commends itself; we pay our homage, due To this diviner science and to you: Did Orpheus harp cause beasts to dance, thine more Thy loftier strains draw love from them, before Did hate thy art and thee: this wonder shall Raise thee to be a God, make him to fall. Sure some Intelligence was sent from Jove T'acquaint thee with the Harmony above; How else with such composure are we blessed. 'Tis angel's music though in mortals dress Those low and creeping words we Ballads call Thy power has raised to be celestial. O prodigy of nature that couldst keep Thy soul in tune, when all the world was deep In discord: it's then time, for thee to set Some sprightly air, when there's most need of it. When sacred Anthems ceased, and in stead Of that more heavenly music, did succeed Nothing but barking tones, when Organs were By Trumpets silenced, then blown from the choir; Thou, borne to humour all, out of thy brain Full fraught with melody, didst hatch this train Of songs, from whose sweet concord always runs Full streams of harmless mirth t'T'apollo's sons. These charm our senses make our souls to dwell Upon our ears, there to keep sentinel. here's music for the mean'st capacity, And for the skillfulest too deep Harmony: Hold still your pens then, cease for to rehearse WILSON's deserved praise in untuned verse. And learn to sing those notes which rightly hit, Speak more to's honour th●n th'accutest wit. Proceed Harmonious soul, in this thine art. More of thy music still to us impart, For in these sheets thou shalt embalmed be, And live a WILSON to Eternity. To my honoured friend Dr WILSON on His musical airs, and incomparable Skill on the Lute. COuld wife Pythagoras taste thy skill; Or drowned in numbers drink his fill; Could he [but revel't in thy air One hour, he'd swear thy soul is there. Thou'lt tempt, (take but thy Lute in hand,) Eurydice again to Land; Who ravished with one careless glance, May safely venture tother dance On fatal Serpents, luled in th'arms Of thy soft notes they'll need no charms, Labour but on thy strings, they'll throng Themselves into a Swans last song; Where every note will ring the knell Of some dead baffled Philomela. E. D. ex AE de Christi On that incomparable Master of music Dr WILSON. SIR, such in sounds your skill's, that while you're here, Oxford's not only England's eye but ear: So at a shake of yours our passions flow, As if you reached our Heartstrings with your Bow, Touch your Theorboe, and round all our souls Like Unisons the restless Quaver rolls, Your * The old rhetoric school now assigned for the music lecture. school did never so deserve its name, As since your ravishing rhetoric thither came, No lofty style like Ela can command, No Figures like the postures of your Hand, How have I seen, souls melting through the Eyes, Ears chained, tongues silent at your Melodies. Like Orpheus Rivers, Beasts, Stones, Birds you move, When Tears, & wrath, fierceness, and Winged Love Follow your Tunes, such Majesty attends Your strokes, that Law comes from your finger's ends, The Spartans music made them fight & die, Yours would have made them to grasp victory. No wonder then if Poets find their Feet, When with such all Commanding notes they meet. Praise is an Echo to good deeds, then fit It is, good music should have most of it. A. C. To his honoured Friend Dr JOHN WILSON upon his most excellent Book of Ayres. LEnd my Muse wings and with them I will dare, To soar aloft in your much clearer air. Where your harmonious sphere is known to move With sweeter Accents than those do above. Did now Promethius live he'd find a way, Not only for to animate mere Clay. he'd ask for pure air not for Jove's fire, That he might some harmonious souls inspire. music's completest parts you here have set, Only that we might find them more complete, Tothth' envy of our Nation here you show, Music's perfection perfected by you. To the great Master of music Dr J. WILSON upon his most excellent Book of Ayres. THe soul's a Symphony: Th'harmonious blast, The perfect air of the great Protoplast. No wonder then if thy Diviner Note Betrày my soul, make mine invention dote. stirred by thy music from each melting string, Didst thou not Cheat me of my soul, I'd sing, I'd Praise thy virtues; but thy sweetest choir, Bids me give audience only, and Admire. Each stroke speaks WILSON and whoever plays Sings a new Anthem to his lasting praise. 'Tis WILSON speaks, each neatly warbled strain Is but the Echo of th' inventors brain. Not Death, nor Time can e'er eclipse thy Fame, While each string, from thy Book, thus sounds thy Name. Ne'er fear Oblivion then: Thy Glory shall, Know none, but what's the world's great funeral. N. M. To my honoured Friend JOHN WILSON Doctor of music, on his excellent Book of Ayres. AS Friends do meet whom nobler love hath joined And made (though several bodies, yet) one mind, Who count themselves to live, not 'cause they move And have a being but because they love; Who when they view, think all their souls i'th' eye. Or if they touch, think it i'th' hand to lie: So do I meet your airs, they have the art Of drawing all my soul into that part Which they affect, and if I chance to hear Them struck am forced to wish myself all ear. I do not wonder that the King did * When some of these airs were presented to him by Dr Wilson Mr Low, and others. call, WILSON, there's more words, let's hear them all. Such was your skill, that what the rest o'th' Court Perhaps thought long, Judicious ears thought short. Excellent Artist! whose sweet strains devour Time swift as they, and make days seem an hour. But what need more, since 'tis enough to tell But this, King Charles hath heard, and liked them well. J. H. O. C. To that Excellent musician the AUTHOR. 'TIS well the music of the rolling spheres Doth not arrive to prepossess our ears; That they may entertain thy Nobler lays; Which might embodied Angels charm, and raise Woods into Trances. Let none that at least Hath not a Siren templed in his breast, Pollute thy songs, And in whose every note A choir of Muses plays about his throat: That may call out the soul and make it run In a Triumphant Chariot 'bove the Sun. Could others but discern that Golden vain Of Art, those Graces that breath in each strain Of thy composures, than they might know what (In part) to judge o'th' Learned travail that Teaches thy notes to command Raptures so: But by that self-concealing art (we know) Thine eyes are privileged in thy frames to spy Those silken strings, that fine embroidery. To my worthy Friend that incomparable musician Dr JOHN WILSON on his Book of Songs of three Parts WHy should I load with barren praise A head so often wreathed with bays: Or make the greedy Reader look For something good besides the Book? These dirty lines the rest will soil. And hardly serve to be their foil, Yet since the Author will impart Unto the gaping world his Art; I'll let it know what it ne'er thought, What can't be learned may be bought; lest men inestimable call It still and so not buy't at all. Thus o'er fair Structures of't we set A Bill, this House is to be Let: Some too perhaps who yet ne'er knew Great WILSON what we owe to you; When they shall on the Title page. See Ballads first come on the Stage. Will think, because the word so gross is. These songs are fit for Market Crosses: I'll tell'em they're authentic grown, And rhymers now put Poets down. And yet I will the Muses call, Apollo, and the Poets all, And bid them tell me if they e'er Had better offerings than are here, Call any Nobler (if they durst) Since they frequented Hibla first: Some human, More divine; the odds Is this, men made some, More the Gods. Thus in a day serene and clear, Some sullen clouds fixed here and there Make angry Pheb●s mend his ray And add more luster to the day. Thus in fair nights the Heavens are Not set with one continued star, But here and there a patch of night Doth recompense the rest with light. Now could the trembling air convey These sounds where Troy's foundations lay; Each scattered stone would show his head, Though long in ruins buried; And being ravished leap to take The station which it did forsake: And thou (Brave WILSON) with thy hand Amphion like shouldst charming stand; So should each higher note have power For to erect a lofty tower And when a deeper tone should sound, To sink a Cellar under ground; Then might I question which would tell Louder thy Fame, Quart pot or Bell. I've done, 'tis time the Reader see The difference twixt Thee and me: I'll only say thy sacred brow Shall not be crowned with laurel now, Stay then till we together can Thy Master crown and Thee his Man. R. R. Cheerful airs (or Ballads) for three voices. CANTUS PRIMUS. Cantus Primus. J. Wilson. WWhen Troy town for ten years' war withstood the Greeks in manfullwise, yet did their foes increase so fast, that to resist none could suffice, Waste lie those Walls that were so good and corn now grows where Troy town stood. Cantus Primus. J. Wilson. FRom the fair Lavinian Shore, I your Markets come to store, Muse not though so far I dwell and my wares come here to sell. Such is the sacred hunger of gold then come to my pack while I cry what d'ye lack what d'ye buy for here it is to be sold. Cantus Primus. J. Wilson. WIll you buy any Honesty come away, I sell it openly by day, I bring no forced lights nor Candle to cozen you come buy and handle, This will show the great Man good, the Tradesman where he swears and lies, the Lady of a Noble blood, the City Dame to rule her Eyes, You are Rich men now, come buy and then I will make you richer honest honest men. Cantus Primus. R. Johnson. FUll fathom five thy Father lies, of his bones are coral made those are pearls that were his eyes, nothing of him that doth fade but doth suffer a Sea change into something rich and strange. Sea Nymphs hourly ring his knell, Hark now I hear them Ding dung Bell Ding dung Ding dung Bell Cantus Primus. R. Johnson. WHere the Bee sucks there suck I, in a Cowslips Bell I lie there I couch When owls do cry, on the bats Back I do fly, after Summer merrily. Merrily Merrily shall I live now under the blossom that hangs on the Bough Merrily Merrily shall I live now, under the blossom that Hangs on the Bough. Cantus Primus. J. Wilson. WHen Love with unconfined wings hovers within my gates And My Divine Althea brings to whisper at my Grates. When I lie tangled in her hair, and fettered in her eye, The Birds that wanton in the air, Know no such Liberty. Cantus Primus. J. Wilson. HAve you any work for the Sowgelder hoe, My horn goes to high to low To to low. Have you any pigs Calves or colt's Have you any Lambs in your holts to cut for the stone, here comes a cunning one Have you any Brauches to spayed or e'er a fair maid, that would be a Nun, come kiss me 'tis done. Hark how my merry horn doth blow, to high to low To high to low, to low. Cantus Primus. R. Johnson. COme hither you that Love, and hear me sing of joys still growing green Fresh and Lusty as the pride of Spring and ever blowing, Come hither youths that Blush and dare not know what is desire, and old men worse than you that Cannot blow one spark of Fire, And with the power of my Enchanting Song boys shall be able men and old and old men young. Cantus Primus. J. Wilson. YOung Thirsis lay in Phillis lap, and gazing on her eye prized life too mean for such good hap and fayne the Lad would die. When Phillis who the Force did prove of Love as well as he. Cried to him stay a while my Love and I will die with thee. So did these happy Lovers die, but with so little pain that Both to Life immediately return to die again. KAwasha comes in Majesteé, was never such a god as he The worthies they were nine 'tis true, and lately Arthurs Knights we Knew. He is come from a far Cuntreé To make our nose a Chimneé a Chimneé: But now are come up of Worthies new, the Roaring boys kawashas Crew Kawasha's crew. Silanus ass doth leer to see, this well appointed Companeé. But if Silanus ass should bray, 'twould make them roar and run away. A hay a hay a hay for and a Hoe, a hay for and a Hoe we'll make this great Potan drink off Silanus Cann, we'll make Sylen fall down, and cast him in a swoon. And when that he well drunk is return To see our men of Ire of of all him turn him to his Munkey's from whence he came. More incense Snuffing Puffing smoke and Fire like fell dragoon. Hath been burned at great Kawasha's foot, then to Sylen or Bacchus Both, or take in Jove to boot. Wherefore then yield or quit the field. Cantus Primus. J. Wilson. CAst your caps and Cares away, this is the beggar's Holiday, In the world look out and see, where's so happy a King as he, At the Crowning of our King, Thus we ever Dance and Sing: Where the Nation live so free, And so happy as do we: Be it Peace or be it war, Here at Liberty we are, Hang all Officers we cry, And the Magistrates too by, And enjoy our Ease and Rest, To the Fields we are not pressed, Nor are When the Subsidy's increased, we are not a Penny ceased, Nor will called into the town, To be troubled with a gown. Any go to Law, With a beggar for a Straw. All which happiness he brags, He doth owe unto his rags. Cantus Primus. J. Wilson. do not fear to put thy feet, Naked in the River sweet. Think not newt, nor Leech, nor toad, will bite thy foot when thou hast trod: Nor let the Waters rising high, nor as thou wad'st in make thee Cry and sob, but ever live with me, and not a wave shall trouble thee. Cantus Primus. J. Wilson. thought do not vex me while I sleep; grief do not do not move me, Smile not false hope while I weep she cannot love me, Had I been as cold and Nice, and as often turning, then as she had I been Ice, and she as I now burning. Tears flow no more from my swollen eyes, Sighs do not so oppress me, Stop not your ears at my cries, O but release me. Were you but as sad as I, And as full of mourning, Very grief would make you die, At least, leave off your scorning. WHO so complaineth gaineth oft Loves just reward. Who so resraineth paineth dying Sans regard, then will I make a virtue of my needing And spare no speech since words cause Loves best speeding, O you sad lines Proceeding bleeding, show my greved heart's exceeding needing. Tell her My sad story, will impair her glory, If she smile when I am sorry. Cantus Primus. J. Wilson. COme Silent night and in thy gloomy shade hide my despair all those that Trade with grief do hate relief, and can think nothing fair but thy dark Mantle, in whose misty air Contemning breath they grope for death Oh: come and stay, banish the light-some day, the harms that are not seen Be but as though they had not been. Cantus Primus. J. Wilson. COme Constant Hearts that so prevail, that every passion puts in bail, my Innocence shall dare as far, to give the Tyrant open war, if warmed with pride he kindle fires we'll drown them in our chaste desires: If he assail with Dart or Bow we'll hide them in these hills of Snow, so shall his heart plagued mourn and die, While we smile at his memory and Keep our Hearts our Eyes our ears free From vain Sighs, sad sad groans and Tears. Cantus Primus. J. Wilson. LOve and disdain dwells in my Mistress eyes, contending which of them shall first destroy m●e, Th'one with his restless flames my bosom fries Th'other no less doth with his Ice annoy me. Dearest, since these conclude that I must die, will you not mourn at my sad obsequy. Cantus Primus. J. Wilson. IN a season all oppressed, with sad sorrows poor distressed, Troylous said unto his Cressida yield O yield thee sweet and stay not, O no no no no no No no no Sweet Love I may not. 2 Strife in Love is love's uniting, These hands were not made for fighting, But for mutual hearts delighting, Yield O yield then sweet and stay not: O No No &c. 3. Dear if you will still persever, In this No, which answers never Do what I desire you ever. And again say No, and spare not. O No No &c. I dare not. 4. Since nor time nor place nor plaining, Can change this word of disdaining, What is there for me remaining, But to die, if you gainsay not. O No No &c. I may not. CUpid thou art a wanton Boy, and heretofore mad'st Love a Toy, But in thy reign a Tyrant art, to Wound a sheaperdesses' heart: To make her Sigh, swoon, weep, and Pale, Thus Sick yet modest will not Vaile; But cries out Hymen 'tis your cure, For the blind Boy I'll ne'er endure. Cantus Primus. J. Wilson. THough your strangeness sretts my heart, yet may not I complain, You persuade me 'tis but Art, that secret Love must feign. If another you affect, 'tis but a show t'avoid suspect, Is this fair excusing, O no all is abusing. When another holds your hand, You swear I have your heart: When my rivals close do stand, And I stand far apart. They enjoy you every one, Yet must I seem your friend alone; Is this fair excusing, O no all is abusing. ask me no more whether doth stray those golden atoms of the day, for in pure Love the Heavens prepare, that powder to enrich thy hair, ask me no More where those stars light, that downward shoot in dead of night, for in thine Eyes they set and there, fixed become as in their sphere. Ask me no more where Jove bestows when June is gone the flaming Rose, for in thy beauties Orient deep, all flowers as in their causes sleep. Nor ask me more if East or West The Phoenix builds her spicy Nest, For unto thee at last she flies And in thy fragrand bosom dies. CLora's false Love made Clora weep, and by a river's side, Her flocks which Is't not injustice O ye Gods to kindle my desires, And to leave She was wont to keep neglected thus she cried. Poor victory to pierce a His at so much odds, as there's no mutual fires. Heart that was a tender one, but cowardice to spare your dart from his that was a stone. First part. As she thus mourned the tears that fell Down from her Love-sick eyes Did in the Waters drop and swell, And into bubbles rise. Second Part. Wherein her blubbered face appears, Now out alas said she, How do I melt away in tears, For him that Loves not me. First Part. Yet as I lessen multiply, But in less form appear, Thus do I languish from mine eye, And grow new in my tear. Break not the crystal circles me Sweet streams by your fair side, My Love perhaps may walking be, And I may be espied. Second Part. And thus in little drawn and dressed In a sad tears attire, May force such passions from his breast, Shall equal my desire. ILove (alas) but cannot show it I keep a fire that burns within rakeed up in Embers Ah could she know it, I might perhaps be loved again, For a true Love may Justly call for friendship Love reciprocal. Some Gentle Courteous wind betray me A Sigh, by whispering in her ear, Or let a piteous shower convey me And drop into her breast a tear, Or two or more, the hardest flint By often drops receives a dint. Shall I then vex my heart and rend it That is already too too weak; No no they say Lovers may send it By wrighting what they cannot speak, Go then my Muse and let this verse Bring back my life or else my Hearse. IF I die, be this my will, Let my spirit serve thee still, and desire if not fulfil Thy whole pleasure so approving, Death is not the end of Loving. Let the Earth my Body have whence it sprung, there be my grave, Only the remembrance Have of my Image; Let death never, me from thy Acquaintance sever The last Breath my Tongue shall move, be the airy form of Love, And despite of death approve (Life's privation thus defying) if not dead I love thee dying. Cantus Primus. J. Wilson. GReedy Lover pause a while, and remember that a Smile heretofore would have made thy hopes a feast, which is more since thy diet was incr●ast, then both Looks and Language too, or the face itself can do such a province Is my Hand as if it thou couldst command heretofore there thy lips would Seem to dwell which is more ever since they sped so well, than they can be brought to do, by my neck and bosom too. If the centre of my breast, a dominion unpossessed heretofore may thy wandering thought suffice seek no more, and my heart shall Be thy prize, so thou Keep above the Line, all the hemisphere is thine. If the flames of love were pure, Which by Oath thou didst assure Heretofore, Gold that goes into the clear shines the more. When it leaves again the fire, Let not then those looks of thine Blemish what they should refine. I have cast into the fire Almost all thou couldst desire Heretofore, But I see thou art to crave More and more; Should I cast in all I have, So that were I ne'er so free, Thou wouldst burn, though not for me. THine eyes to me like suns appear or brighter stars their light whih Makes it Summer all the year, Or else a day of Night. But truly I do Think they are but eyes, and neither sun nor star. Cantus Primus. J. Wilson. AWake Awake the morn will never rise, till she can dress her beauty's at thine eyes. The lark forsakes her watery nest and mounting Shakes her dewy wings taking thy window for the East, and as she climbs Aloft she sings, Awake awake the morn will never rise till she Can dress her beauties at thine eyes. The Merchant bows unto the seaman's star, The ploughman from the soon his Season takes, Only the Lover wonders what they are who seek for light before his Mistress wakes. Awake awake the morn will never rise, till she can dress her beauties at thine eyes. Cantus Primus. J. Wilson. I Would have thee Merry, Laugh, and Smile, and then look grave and sad, In every humour but a while make Love as 'tis that's Mad, I would have thy dress in several shapes, like Proteus carved, not he, in humour a mere Jack-an-apes, than a grave Monkey be. Cantus Primus. J. Wilson. IN The merry Month of May, On a morn by break of day forth I Walked the woods so wide, when as May was in her pride, there I spied all alone Pbilliday with Coridon. 2. Much a do there was god wot, He could Love but she could not, His Love he said was ever true, Nor was mine e'er false to you. He said he had loved her long, She said Love should have no wrong, 3. Coridon would kiss her then, She said Maids must kiss no men Till they kissed for good and all, Then she made the shepherds call: All the gods to witness forth Ne'er was loved a fairer youth. 4. Then with many a pretty Oath As yea and nay and faith and troth, Such as silly shepherds' use When they will not Love abuse, Love that had been long deluded, Was with kisses sweet concluded: And Philliday with Garlands gay Was crowned the Lady of the May. fain would I Cloris whom my heart adores, longer a while between thine arms remain, But lo the Jealous morn Her Rosy doors to spite me opes and brings the day again. Farewell farewell Cloris 'tis time I died, the Night departs yet still my woes abide. dear give me a thousand kisses pay the debt thy lips do owe Let the number of those Blisses to ten thousand thousand grow, till to infinites they Flow. Let the sweet perfumed treasure of thy breath my Spirits fill, enjoying endless pleasures, breaths rebreathing let us still, breathe one Breath, and wish one will. Cantus Primus. J. Wilson. lawn as white as driven Snow, cypress black as ere was Crow, Gloves as sweet as damask Roses, masks for Faces and for Noses, Bugle bracelets Necklace Amber, perfumes for a Lady's Chamber, Golden Coyses and stomachers for my lads, for To give their dears pins and Poting sticks pins And poting sticks of steel what Maids lack what What from head to heel, what Come buy of me come, Come buy come buy, buy lads or else your Lasses cry come buy. Cantus Primus. J. Wilson. go weather-beaten thoughts with storm of tears that issue From yourself conceived sorrow, prize her hard heart, press her unwilling ears to hear my night's unrest my grieving Morrow. Tell her the harbour where your Selves do dwell, is my poor heart whereon you beat so sore, as does the clapper on a restless bell Ring for the souls that we shall see no more. And sighs make known my will is made to her, to her that hath my heart for Legacy. Then burst your swellings home And in smoke vade, to be a witness to the standers by, that they may testify How much I loved her, and she repent that all this never moved her. Cantus Primus. J. Wilson. go restless thoughts fly from your Master's breast, and seek out her that Causeth thus my grief, press to her heart, letting it never rest until from her you bring with You relief. Tell her you come from one, that's deadly sick a bleeding heart Whose wounds cannot be healed by any others policy or wit, but by a Love which hath been long concealed, pity perchance may move this sweet effect, and change her mind into some better mood. Pray heavens her favour So on you reflect, that in your suit you may be understood. Then must you Bridle your unruly tongue, and speak her praises and forget your wrong. Cantus Primus. J. Wilson. IF my Lady bid begin, Shall I say No 'tis a sin? If she bid me kiss and play, Shall I shrink? Cold fool away. If she clap my cheeks and spy little Cupids in my eye gripe my hand and stroke my hair, shall I like a faint heart fear. No, no, no, let those that lie in dismal dungeons and would die, despair and fear, Let those that Cry they are forsaken and would fly, quit their fortunes mine Are free, Hope makes me Hardy, so does she. Cantus Primus. J. Wilson. TEll me where the beauty lies in my Mistress, or mine eyes, is she fair I made her so, Beauty doth from liking grow. Be she fairer whiter than Venus' Doves or Leda's swan, What's that Beauty if neglected, seen of all, of None respected. Then let my Mistress that I love her, think her fair Cause I approve Her. Cantus Primus. J. Wilson. BOast not blind boy that I'm thy prize, 'twas not thy Dart but those that feathered with her eyes first struck my heart. Th'ill tutored shafts and Childish Bow, on faintly loving hearts bestow. I Vaunt my flame and dare desye Those bugbear fires, Which only serve to terrify Fools fond desires: Hoard up for such thy painted flame, As tremble when they hear thy name. My heart thy fire nor shafts could pierce, But holy flashes, Swifter than lightning and more fierce, Burnt mine to ashes; Where let them sleep in unknown rest, Since Fate concludes their urn her breast. COme thou Father of the Spring: Come Zephyrus, and while we sing Spread thy Nectar-dewed wings over all this place below, that from hence such Sweet may grow, Hybla shall envy at the show, that the Nymphs and higher Powers may cast their eyes out at their Bowers, and descend to pluck thy Flowers, Whence a rich perfume shall rise, to swell the air and pierce the Skies Sweeter than a Sacrifice. Cantus Primus. J. Wilson. SIr this my little Mistress here, did ne'er pretend to Peter's chair, nor No Benefice she ever sold, nor Pardon, nor dispense for Gold, she Any Triple crown did wear, and yet she is a Pope. No Kings her Scarcely is a quarter old, and yet she is a Pope. Feet did ever kiss, or had worse looks from Her then this. Nor doth she ever Hope, to Saint men with the Rope, and yet she is a Pope. A female Pope, you'll say a second Joane, but sure this is Pope Innocent or none. Cantus Primus. N. Lanneir. NO No I tell thee no, Though from thee I Must go, Yet my Heart says not so. It swears by Stella's eyes, in whose darting surprise It in love's fetters lies. It swears by those Roses and lilies so White, And those Rubies so Bright, ne'er to part ne'er to part from my dear dear delight. Cantus Primus. R. Johnson. FOr ever let thy heavenly Tapers on the Married brightly shine And never may unsacred vapours drown those glorious flames of thine. O Hymen That their Hands, their Hands dost join until thy rays to darkness turn, With thy high Praise, with thy high praise, our hearts shall burn, our Hearts shall burn. Cantus Primus. J. Wilson. FLy hence shadows that do keep watchful sorrows charmed in sleep, Though the eyes be overtaken yet the heart doth ever waken, thoughts charmed Up in busy snares of continual toils and cares, Love and griefs are so expressed, That they rather sigh then rest. Fly hence shadows that do keep watchful Sorrows charmed in sleep, watchful sorrows charmed in sleep. Cantus Primus. J. Wilson. SInce Love hath in thine and mine Eye Kindled a holy flame, What pity 'twere to let it die, what sin to quench the same. The stars that seem extinct by day, disclose their flames at night, and in a subtle sense convey their Loves in beams of light. 3. So when the Jealous Eye and ear, Are shut or turned a side: Our tongues, our Eyes may talk nor fear The being heard or spied. 4. What though our bodies cannot meet, Loves fuell's more divine, The fixed stars by their twinkling greet, And yet they never join. 5. False Meteors that do change their place, Though they seem fair and bright, Yet when they covet to embrace, Fall down and lose their light. 6. If thou perceive thy flame decay, Come light thine Eyes at mine: And when I feel mine fade away, I'll take new fire from thine. 7. Thus while we shall preserve from wast, The flame of our desires, No vestal shall maintain more chaste, Or more immortal fires. SInce Love hath brought thee, and I have caught thee here in this bower And at this hour, Nor shall thy feignings, thy coy disdainings thy causeless Chidings, thy short abidings, thy crafty smilings thy quaint beguilings, Nor those thy strugglings, with all thy jugglings shall make me Leave thee No No thou shalt no more deceive me. 2. Seeest thou that fountain, Under that mountain, Watering those valleys, Along whose allies, Thou once didst fly me, when I did spy thee, Even in this attire, Held by a satire: Under that Sapling, In a close grappling, When I did threat him, and after beat him, And yet wouldst leave me, No, No, thou shalt no more deceive me. 3. Then cease thy panting, And be not wanting, In those sweet graces, and dear embraces, Wherewith thou bindest, all that thou mindest, And fall a Billing, till I be willing, So to repay thee, that which may stay thee, And so delight thee, that to requite me, Thou ne'er wilt leave me, Nor ever offer to deceive me. YOu heralds of my Mistress heart, beauty's fairest jewel, to me her Passions force impart, that I may know if she or no, intendeth to be cruel, your silence can with art express, the heart's unfeigned story When modest tongues fear to confess then daring eyes can best devise enchanting O-ra-to-ry. Cantus Primus. J. Wilson. WHy thinkst thou fool thy beauty's rays should flame my colder Heart when thy disdain shall several ways such piercing blasts impart seest not those beams that guild the day, though they be hot and fierce t'have neither heat Nor power to stay, when winds themselves displerce, So though thine Eye heats my desire, yet know thy coy disdain falls like a storm on That young fire, and blows me cool again. Cantus Primus. J. Wilson. WHen the clear sun with his beams hot, Scorched the grass in Meade and mountain, Strephon the shepherd now forgot, late sitting by a crystal fountain under a spreading Beech's shade, for Phyllis ear this Ditty made; Farewell farewell false and untrue Love, light as the wind Soon changed for new love. So long as I was in your sight I Was your life, your heart, your treasure, and with feigned eyes you moaned and sighed As in flame burning past all measure, three days endured this love to me, and It was lost in other three. Farewell farewell &c. Soon as another swain you Saw, who may by love or liking feigned, you 'gan from me your love withdraw, and soon my place he had obtained. Then came a third your love to Win, and we were out and he was in. Farewell &c. doubtless you bear your self in hand, because of loves you breed such plenty, to fill with new loves All the Land, and all the World if it were empty, But O you do yourself be-guile, because they live so short a while, Farewell farewell &c. Cantus Primus. J. Wilson. WHat would any man desire? is he cold? then here's a fire Is he hot? she'll gently school him till he find that heat does cool him, Is he Sad? then here's a pleasure, is he poor? then here's a treasure. Loves he music? Here's the choice of all sweet sounds in her sweet voice. Does he hunger, here's a Feast to which a God might be a guest, and to those Viands if he thirst, here's Nectar for him, since the first of men that was for sin a deptor, never any Tasted better. here's all complete from head to heel, to hear, to see, taste Smell or feel. Cantus Primus. J. Wilson. THou that excellest and sweeter smellest then budding Roses yet Cruelly killest, others sit billing, Loves Nectar spilling, why shouldst thou then to me Prove so unwilling, thy looks so smiling, all hearts beguiling Kindled the fire of my desire. 2. Then be not cruel, my love's chief jewel, Quench the flames thou hast made, or give them fuel, All those that knew me, when they shall view me, With death rewarded, will curse her that slew me. O let relenting, and swift repenting, From danger free, both thee and me. 3. Then we'll lie gasping, arm in arm clasping, Of love's Sweets that have past each others asking, Our hearts united, this way delighted, Shall not with needless fear, no more be frighted. But with sweet Kisses, multiply blisses, Until we prove, one soul in Love. I swear by muskadel, that I do Love thee, well and more than I can Tell, by the white claret and Sack, I do love thy Black black black, I do Love thy black black black. 2 So lovely and so fair Ore shadowed with thy hair, So nimble just like hair, All these set me on love's rack, For thy sweeter Black black black. 3. No goddess 'mongst them all, So slender and so tall, And graceful too withal, Which makes my sinews to Crack, For thy dainty Black black black. 4. Thy kind and loving Eye, When first I did Espye, Our loves it did descry, Dumb speaking what d'ye lack, Mine answered thy Black black black. fondness of man to love a she, were beauty's Image on her Face so carved by Im-mor-ta-li-ty, as en-vious time cannot disgrace. Who shall weigh a lover's pain, feigned smiles a while his hopes may steer but soon reduced by sad disdain to the first principles of fear. Then farewell fairest ne'er will I, Pursue uncertain blisses more: Who sails by woman's constancy, Shipwrecks his Love on every shore. down Be still you Seas, water your dread master please, down down I say or be silent as the day, you that fling and roar a loft Whistling winds be still and soft, not an Angry look let fly, you proud Mountains Fall and die. Tumble no more, nor kick nor roar, nor trouble her Keele to make her reel, but safe from Surges, Rocks and Sand, kiss her and stroke her, and set her a Land. Cantus Primus. J. Wilson. YOu say you love me, nay can swear it too, but stay Sir, 'Twill not do, I know you keep your oaths, just as you wear your clothes, while new and fresh in fashion, but once grown old you lay them by, forgot like words you speak in passion I'll not believe you I. Cantus Primus. J. Wilson. HEnce with this wedlock chain and Smart I'll not have People laugh at me for wearing shackles on my heart, and live engaged that might live Free, I'll keep my freedom all I can, and never live a married man You that have servile minds may marry and con-fine yourselves to one I will not from my nature vary, which like a thousand yet Love none But keep my freedom all I can, and never live a Married man. Cantus Primus. J. Wilson. SO have I seen a Silver Swann, as in a watery looking glass, viewing her whi-ter form and then, Courting her self with lovely grace. As now she doth herself her self admire Being at once the fuel and the fire. Cantus Primus. J. Wilson. viewest thou that poor penurious pair of Lovers how they Bill, Instructed not by wanton fair, but by a mutual will. Such needless aids these wretch's scorn, they find out hid desires, which in each others mind being borne begets them to new fires. Cantus Primus. J. Wilson. IF I must tell you what I love before my heart shall bow to any 'Tis not the Black that I approve, nor yet the Brown adored by many The first is far from all delight, 'tis beauty's foe and not complexion, The emblem Of sad care and night, still moving horror not affection. Cantus Primus. J. Wilson. WHen on mine eyes her eyes first shone, I all amazed steadily Gazed, and she to make me more amazed so caught so weave four eyes in one as Who had with advizement seen us would have admired Loves equal force between us, But treason in those friendlike eyes, my heart first charming and then disdaining, so charmed it ere it dreamed of Harming, as at her mercy now it Lyes and shows me to my endless smart, she loved but with her eyes I with my heart. Cantus Primus. J. Wilson. BE not thou so foolish nice, as to be in-vi-ted twice What should women more incite then their own sweet Appetite, shall Savage things more freedom have, than Nature unto women gave. The Swan the Turtle, and the Sparrow, Bill a while then take the Marrow; They Bill and kiss, what Then they do, Come Bill and kiss and I'll show you. Cantus Primus. J. Wilson. COme I faint thy tedious stay doubles each hour of the Day, the Nimble haste of winged love, makes aged time not seem to move. Did not the night, and then the light, instruct my sight, I should forget the sun, forget his flight. Show not the drooping Marigold, whose Leaves like doleful arms do Fold, my longing nothing can explain, but soul and Body rent in twain. Did I not moan, and sigh and groan, and talk alone, I might believe my soul from home were gone. Cantus Primus. J. Wilson. GOd Lyeus ever young, ever honoured ever sung, stained with Blood of lusty Grapes, in a thousand lusty shapes. Dance upon the mazer's brim, in the crimson liquour swim, from thy plenteous hand Divine, let a River run with wine, God of mirth let this day here, enter neither care nor fear, enter neither care nor fear. Cantus Primus. J. Wilson. NOt Roses couched within a lily bed, are those commixtures That depaint thy Face, nor yet the white, which silvers Hiems' head, mixed with the dewy morning's purple grace; But thou whose fair my Senses captive led, whom I erst Fondly deemed of heavenly race, hast from my guiltless Blood which thou hast Shed, and envies paleness got thy white and Red. Cantus Primus. J. Wilson. SO many Loves have I neglected, whose good parts might move me, that now I am of all rejcted, there is none will Love me. Why is maiden heat so coy, it Freezeth when it burneth, losing what it Might enjoy and having lost it mourneth. Cantus Primus. J. Wilson. NOw the Lu-sty Spring is seen, green, yellow, gaudy blue, daintily in-vites the view on every Bush on every green, Roses blushing as they blow And inviting men to pull, lilies whiter than the Snow, Woodbines With sweet honey full. All love's emblems, and all cry Ladies if not Plucks you die. Cantus Primus. J. Wilson. WHerefore peepest thou envious day, we can kiss without thee, Lovers hate that golden ray, that thou bear'st about thee. Go and give them Light that sorrow, or the sailor flying, our Embraces need no Morrow Nor our pleasures eyeing. 2. We shall curse thy curious Eye, For our soon betraying, And condemn thee for a spy, If thou see us playing. Get thee gone and Lend thy flashes, Where there's need of lending. Our affections are not ashes. Nor our Kisses ending. 3. Were we cold or withered here, We should wish thee by us, Or but one another fear, Than thou shouldst not fly us. We are young thou mar'st our pleasure, Go to Sea and slumber, Darkness only gives us leisure, Our stolen joys to number. turn turn, turn thy beauteous face away, how pale and sickly looks the Day in emulation of thy brighter beams. O envious light fly fly begun Come Night and join two breasts in one, when what Love does we will repeat in dreams. Yet thine eyes open, who can day hence fright Let but their lids fall and it will be night. Cantus Primus. J. Wilson. WHen I behold my Mistress face, where beauty hath her dwell-ing place, And see those seeing stars her eyes, In whom Loves fire for ever lies. And hear her witty Charming words, her sweet Tongue to mine ear affords me thinks he wants Wit, ears, and Eyes, whom Love makes not Idolatrize. Cantus Primus. J. Wilson. MY Love and I for Kisses played she would keep stakes I was content, but when I won she would be paid, this made me ask her what she meant. Nay since I see quoth she I see quoth she your wrangling vain, take your own Kisses and I'll take mine again. IN a vale with flowrets spangled, To the Nymph that had entangled, Strephon meeting her thus lained And to her his bosom Chained, Tarry O tarry fair at the sighs at the prayer of who thy dear eyes adm'res Hark how each thing we see do all discourse of she, so thy beauty all Inspires. The Birds thy praises sing smooth winds the blessing acknowledge to thy breath Th'earth says thou art their spring, each flower confessing their scent and Colour was Of their sweet breathing. Of thy be-queathing. Thus sung he, but the Nymph fled him, Him and all his praises scorning, Wherefore as his anger led him To dispraise his praises turning, Stay cruel stay he cries, And let thy ears and Eyes, Of thy faults the Records be. And those that praised thee late, See how thy scorns they hate. In their due remorse of me. Hark the Birds cry like th'Owle, thou'rt all their wonder, The winds would blow thee hence thy absence hasting, Th'earth says thy frowns are but a dartlesse thunder, Flowers smile, nor fear thy frosty bosoms blasting. FINIS.