Kinde are her answeres, But her performence keeps no day, Breaks time as dancers From their own Musicke when they stray: All her free favours & smooth words, Wing my hopes in vain. O did ever voice so sweet but only fain? Can true loveyeeld such delay, Converting joy to pain? Lost is our freedome, When we submit to women so: Why doe we neede them, When in their best they worke out woe? there is no wisedome Can altar ends by Fate prefixt; O why is the good of man with evil mixt? Never were days yet cal'd two, But one night went betwixt.
- by Thomas Campion (1567 - 1620) [author's text checked 1 time against a primary source]
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive)
- by Thomas Campion (1567 - 1620), "Kinde are her answeres", published 1617, from the collection The Third and Fourth Booke of Ayres - The Third Booke, no. 3. [text verified 1 time]
Researcher for this text: Linda Godry
This text was added to the website: 2006-05-18
Line count: 18
Word count: 105