Canzonets or Litle Short Aers to Five and Six Voices

Fly, love that art so sprightly
to bonny boots uprightly.
And when in heaven thou meet him,
Say that I kindly greet him,
And that his Oriana,
True widow maid,
still followeth Diana.

False love did me inveigle,
And she like to the Eagle,
Upon my breast, ay tiring,
Permits me no respiring.
Then would she once but bill me
by the lips and so kill me.
O but Calisto teareth,
My heart out like the Bear
whose name she beareth.

Adieu, adieu, you kind and cruel,
And you, mine own sweet Jewel,
Adieu, adieu, and you adieu,
Thus said these lovers 

And as their hands were shaking,
The Groom his heart fell quaking
And then fell down a-dying
And she sat by him crying.

Love's folk in green arraying,
At barleybreak were playing.
Laura in hell was caught then,
but Lord, how Dorus laughed then,
And said good Mistress sith you
will needs thither have with you.

Love took his bow and arrow
And slew his mother's sparrow.
I know not how it chanced,
Perhaps his arrow glanced.
Away the wag him hied.
Lord! how am I apayed?
My bird is dead
and now my boy is strayed.

Lo, where with flowery head and hair all brightsome,
Rosy-cheek'd, crystal-eyed ev'n weeping lightsome,
The fresh Aurora springeth,
And wanton Flora flingeth
Amorous odours unto the winds delightsome.
Ah, for pity and anguish.
Only my heart, only my heart doth languish.

O grief! Ev’n on the Bud that fairly flowered
The Sun hath lowered;
And, ah, the Breast (which Love durst never venture)
Bold Death did enter.
Pity, O Heavens, that have my Love in keeping, my cries and weeping.

Sovereign of my delight, hear my complaining.
Fly to her my sad thoughts, my cares containing,
Beauty by pleasure only crowned,
Now in herself lies drowned
By her unkind disdaining.

Our Bonny boots could toot it, yea and foot it.
Say, lusty lads who now shall bonnyboot it?
Who but the jolly shepherd, bonny Dorus?
He now must lead the morris dance before us.

Ay me, the fatal arrow
That drives ev'n to the marrow,
Cupid from out his quiver
Hath pluck'd and pierc'd my liver.
The blood through which the fell venom close creepeth,
Alas ev'n though mine eyes, my heart outweepeth.

My Nymph the dear, and her my dear,
I follow my Nymph the dear,
and her my dear, I follow,
Trussed is her hair in gold, than gold more yellow.
Say, did you see her, the divinest creature
That ever was of feature?
O love the world sweet maker,
Change her mood and more humane minded make her.

Cruel, wilt thou persever?
Peace to leave ever?
Peace shalt thou have and gladness,
But when in sadness?
When thou the morn seest ev'n,
To fall from heav'n.

Said I that Amarillis was fairer than is Phillis?
Upon my death I take it,
sweet Phyll I never spake it,
But if you think I did then,
take me and hang me,
Yet let more and more love,
more love and beauty pang me.

Damon and Phillis squared,
And to point her the place, the Nymph him dared.
Her glove she down did cast him,
And, to meet her alone, she bade him haste him.
Alike their weapons were, alike their smiting,
And little Love came running to the fighting.

Lady, you think you spite me,
when by the lip you bite me.
But if you think it trouble,
then let my pain be double.
I triple but you bliss me,
for though you bite, you kiss me
and with sour sweet delight me.

You black bright stars, that shine while daylight lasteth,
Ah, why haste you away when night time hasteth?
In darker nights the stars seem still the lighter,
On me shine then a night with your heams brighter.
Beams that are cause my heart hath so aspired,
Fire mounts aloft and they my heart have fired.

I follow, lo! the footing still of my lovely cruel:
Proud of herself, that she is beauty's jewel:
And fast away she flieth, love's sweet delight deriding,
In woods and groves sweet, sweet nature's treasure hiding.
Yet cease I not pursuing; but since I thus have sought her,
Will run me out of breath, till I have caught her.

Stay, heart, run not so fast from him that loves thee,
To her that deadly hates thee.
Her sharp disdain reproves thee,
And worse than ill still rates thee.
Then let her go and spare not;
Hold thou thyself contented and I care not.
Up, gentle swains, we'll have a round this morrow;
My love is gone and with her, 'go, my sorrow'.
O vile wretch, thou lovedst her once and why
now dost thou vary?
Then straight away I haste me,
And after her will run while life shall last me;
Ah, death his force now trieth,
Flora farewell, for lo, thy shepherd dieth.

Good Love, then fly thou to her,
And see if thou canst woo her:
Go sweet and turn about her,
For sure I die without her.
But if she still abhor me
and will do nothing for me,
Sweet Love, this favour do me:
Return thou never to me.

Ladies, you see time flieth,
And beauty too, it dieth.
Then take your pleasure
while you have leisure.
Nor be so dainty
of that which you have plenty.

Hark! Alleluia cheerly
With Angels now he singeth
That here loved music dearly.
Whose Echo heaven ringeth,
Where thousand cherubs hover,
About the eternal Mover.