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POETRY 

in

ELIZABETHAN

LUTE SONG



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Anthony Holborne

                   My heavie sprite opprest with sorrowes might    

John Dowland

                   Sorrow, stay

                  In darkness let me dwell

                  O what hath overwrought

                  Me, me, and none but me

                  Toss not my soul

Thomas Campian

                  My sweetest Lesbia

                  Though you are young

                  I care not for these ladies

                 When to her lute Corrina sings

                 Thou art not fair

                 Blame not my cheeks

                 Hark, all you ladies

                When thou must home

Philip Rosseter

                No grave for woe

                If I urge my kind desires

                Long have mine eyes gaz’d

                Though far from joy

                Whether men do laugh or weep

 

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