All ye whom love or fortune hath betraide Awaie with these selfe loving lads Awake sweet love thou art returnd Burtst forth my teares Can she excuse my wrongs with vertues cloake
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Come againe : sweet love doth now envite Come away, come sweet love Come heavy sleepe Deare if you change ile never chuse againe Go cristall teares His goulden locks time hath to silver turnd If my complaints could pasions move My thoughts are wingd with hopes Now, o now i needs must part Rest a while you cruell cares Sleepe wayward thoughts Think' st thou ten by thy faining Unquiet thoughts Who ever thinks or hopes of love for love Wilt thou unkind thus reave me of my hart Would my conceit that first enforst my woe
DANS LE MÊME RAYON ET SOUVENT ACHETÉ AVEC THE 1ST BOOKE OF SONGS OR AYRES :
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