CUPID AND CAMPAS PE. R. J. S. STEVENS. CUPID and my Campaspe* play'd Growing on's cheek, (but none knows how) John Lilye, in the time of MADRIGAL for Three Voices. BUONONCINI CHI mai d'iniqua Stella Provò tenor più rio ; Che vide mai, del mio A sospirar d'amor. * The word Miranda, substituted for Campaspe in the Glee. MADRIGAL for Three Voices. WILBYE.-1609. COME, shepherd swains, that wont to hear me sing, Now sigh and groan, Dead is my love, my hope, my joy, my spring; O she that was your summer's queen, Your day's delight, Is gone, and will no more be seen. Oh! cruel spight, Break all your pipes, that wont to sound With pleasant cheer, And cast yourselves upon the ground To wail my dear. Come shepherd swains, come nymphs, and all around, To help me cry, Dead is my love, and, seeing she is so, Lo! now I die! MADRIGAL for Four Voices. J. BENNETT.-1590. COME, shepherds, follow me, Run up apace the mountain, See, lo! beside the fountain, Love laid to rest, how sweetly sleepeth he. Oh take heed, come not nigh him, But haste we hence, and fly him! And lovers, dance with gladness, For while love sleeps, it's truce with care and sadness. MADRIGAL for Five Voices. GIOVANNI CROCE.-1560. CYNTHIA! thy song and chaunting, So strange a flame in gentle hearts awaketh, Of syrens most commended, That with delightful tunes for praise contended ; Thou neither kill'st nor woundest, But dost revive a number Of bodies buried in perpetual slumber. ANCIENT ANTIPATHY. GLEE for Four Voices. R. J. S. STEVENS. CRABBED age and youth cannot live together, Youth is full of pleasure, age is full of care; Youth like summer morn, age like winter weather; Youth like summer brave, age like winter bare. Age I do abhor thee, youth I do adore thee; Age I do defy thee, O! sweet shepherd hie thee; Shakspeare. GLEE for Four Voices. COME, ye party jangling swains, Leave your flocks, and quit the plains; Sprightly widows, come away, All that rip'ning sun can bring, Welcome ev'ry friendly guest. Comus jesting, music charming, DANBY. GLEE for Four Voices. CANS'T thou love and live alone, Love is so disgraced; Pleasure is best when it can rest, In a heart embraced. Rise, rise, day-light, do not burn out; And birds do sing, 'Tis only I that mourn out. Morning star doth now appear, Wind is hush'd, and sky is clear: Can'st thou love? then burn out day. RAVENSCROFt. Rise, rise, &c. ODE TO ST. CECILIA. For Six Voices. S. WEBBE, Jun. CECILIA more than all the muses skill'd, Phoebus himself must to her yield; And at her feet lay down His golden harp, and laurel crown: In the deep organ's more majestic sound; Who form'd the tuneful frame, Th' immortal music never dies. |