Recorded Campion Center – Weston, Mass. USA, May 23-36, 1995
Erato CD 0630-12740-2 DDD

BOSTON CAMERATA
Anne Azéma, soprano
Karen Clark, mezzo-soprano
William Hite, tenor
Joel Frederiksen, bass, lute
Jesse Lepkoff, flutes, recorders
Robert Mealy, violin
Carol Lewis, treble and bass viols
Lynn Tetenbaum, tenor viol
Emily Walhout, bass viol
Olav Chris Henriksen, lute
Joel Cohen, cittern, lute

performing editions and instrumentations of the songs by Joel Cohen
lute transcriptions and arrangements: Olav Chris Henriksen
language consultant: Daniel Donoghue

Digital recording
Producter : Ysabelle Van Wersch-Cot
Sound engineer : Jacques Doll
Editing : Ysabelle Van Wersch-Cot

Ye songe texts; or, a pocket anthology of Elizabethan lyric poetry

1#) Psalm 100

Be thou O God exalted high,
And as thy glory fills the sky,
So let it be on earth display’d,
Till thou art here as there obey’d.

O God my heart ’tis fix’d ’tis bent,
Its thankful tribute to present,
And with my heart my voice I’ll raise,
To thee, my God, in songs of praise.

Awake, my glory, harp and lute,
No longer let your strings be mute;
And I, my tuneful part to take,
Will with the early dawn awake.

2#) Lady Laiton’s Almain

3#) Humour say: a dialogue

Humour, say what mak’st thou here
In the presence of a Queen?
Princes hold conceit most dear,
All conceit in humour seen.
Thou art a heavy laden mood:
Humour is invention’s food.
But never humour yet was true,
But that which only pleaseth you.

O, I am as heavy as earth,
Say, then, who is Humour now?
I am now inclin’d to mirth,
Humour I as well as thou,
Why, then, ’tis I am drown’d in woe;
No, no wit is cherish’d so.
But never humour, etc.

Mirth then is drown’d in sorrows brim,
Oh, in sorrow all things sleep.
No, no, fool; the light’st things swim,
Heavy things sink to the deep.
In her presence all things smile;
Humour, frolic then awhile.
But never humour, etc.

4#) The Most Sacred Queen Elizabeth, Her Galliard

5#) Say, Love, if ever thou didst find

Say, Love, if ever thou didst find
A woman with a constant mind?
None but one.
And what should that rare mirror be?
Some goddess or some queen is she;
She, she, she, and only she,
She only queen of love and beauty.

But could thy fiery poison’d dart
At no time touch her spotless heart,
Nor come near?
She is not subject to Love’s bow;
Her eye commands, her heart saith no.
No, no, no, and only no,
One no another still doth follow.

How might I that fair wonder know,
That mocks desire with endless no.
See the moon
That ever in one change doth grow,
Yet still the same, and she is so;
So, so, so, and only so,
From heav’n her virtues she doth borrow.

To her then yield thy shafts and bow,
That can command affections so:
Love is free;
So are her thoughts that vanquish thee.
There is no queen of love but she,
She, she, she, and only she,
She only queen of love and beauty.

6#) Gaillard on “Awake, sweet love”

7#) Come away, come sweet love,

Come away, come sweet love,
The golden morning breaks.
All the earth, all the air,
Of love and pleasure speaks.
Teach thine arms then to embrace,
And sweet rosy lips to kiss,
And mix our souls in mutual bliss.
Eyes were made for beauty’s grace,
Viewing, rueing love’s long pain,
Procur’d by beauty’s rude disdain.

Come away, come sweet love,
The golden morning wastes,
While the sun from his sphere
His fiery arrows casts,
Making all the shadows fly,
Playing, staying in the grove
To entertain the stealth of love.
Thither, sweet love, let us hie,
Flying, dying in desire,
Wing’d with sweet hopes and heav’nly fire.

Come away, come sweet love,
Do not in vain adorn
Beauty’s grace that should rise
Like to the naked morn,
Lilies on the river’s side
And fair Cyprian flow’rs new blown
Desire no beauties but their own.
Ornament is nurse of pride,
Pleasure, measure love’s delight;
Haste then, sweet love, our wished flight.

8#) Sleep, wayward thoughts

Sleep, wayward thoughts, and rest you with my love;
Let not my love be with my love diseas’d.
Touch not, proud hands, lest you her anger move,
But pine you with my longings long displeas’d.
Thus, while she sleeps, I sorrow for her sake;
So sleeps my love, and yet my love doth wake.

But, O the fury of my restless fear!
The hidden anguish of my flesh desires!
The glories and the beauties that appear
Between her brows, near Cupid’s closed fires!
Thus, while she sleeps, moves sighing for her sake;
So sleeps my love, and yet my love doth wake.

My love doth rage, and yet my love doth rest;
Fear in my love, and yet my love secure.
Peace in my love, and yet my love oppress’d,
Impatient, yet of perfect temp’rature.
Sleep dainty love, while I sigh for thy sake;
So sleeps my love, and yet my love doth wake.

9#) Come, heavy sleep

Come, heavy sleep, the image of true death,
And close up these my weary weeping eyes,
Whose spring of tears doth stop my vital breath
And tears my heart with sorrow’s sigh-swoll’n cries.
Come, and possess my tired thought-worn soul,
That living dies, till thou on me be stole.

10#) If my complaints

If my complaints could passions move,
Or make love see wherein I suffer wrong,
My passions were enough to prove
That my despairs had govern’d me too long.
O love, I live and die in thee,
Thy grief in my deep sighs still speaks;
Thy wounds do freshly bleed in me,
My heart for thy unkindness breaks;
Yet thou dost hope when I despair,
And when I hope thou mak’st me hope in vain.
Thou say’st thou canst my harms repair,
Yet for redress thou lett’st me still complain.

Can love be rich and yet I want?
Is love my judge, and yet am I condemn’d?
Thou plenty hast, yet me dost scant;
Thou made a god, and yet thy pow’r condemn’d.
That I do love, it is thy power;
That I desire, it is thy worth;
If love doth make men’s lives too sour,
Let me not love, nor live henceforth.
Die shall my hopes, but not my faith,
That you, that of my fall may hearers be,
May hear despair, which truly saith:
I was more true to Love than Love to me.

11#) Pavan a 4

12#) Can she excuse my wrongs

Can she excuse my wrongs with Virtue’s cloak?
Shall I call her good when she proves unkind?
Are those clear fires which vanish into smoke?
Must I praise the leaves where no fruit I find?
No, no, where shadows do for bodies stand,
That may’st be abus’d if thy sight be dim.
Cold love is like to words written on sand,
Or to bubbles which on the water swim.
Wilt thou be thus abused still,
Seeing that she will right thee never?
If thou canst not o’ercome her will,
Thy love will be thus fruitless ever.

Was I so base, that I might not aspire
Unto those high joys which she holds from me?
As they are high, so high is my desire,
If she this deny, what can granted be?
If she will yield to that which reason is,
It is reason’s will that love should be just.
Dear, make me happy still by granting this,
Or cut off delays if that die I must.
Better a thousand times to die
Than for to love thus still tormented:
Dear, but remember it was I
Who for thy sake did die contented.

13#) Lady, if you so spite me

Lady, if so you spite me,
Wherefore do you so oft kiss and delight me,
Sure that my heart oppress’d and overcloyed
May break thus overjoyed?
If you seek to spill me,
Come kiss me, sweet, and kill me.
So shall your heart be eased,
And I shall rest content and die well pleased.

14#) Come again

Come again, sweet love doth now invite
Thy graces that refrain
To do me due delight,
To see, to hear, to touch, to kiss, to die
With thee again in sweetest sympathy.

All the day the sun that lends me shine
By frowns doth cause me pine
And feeds me with delay.
Her smiles, my springs that makes my joy to grow,
Her frowns the winters of my woe.

All the night my sleeps are full of dreams,
My eyes are full of streams.
My heart takes no delight
To see the fruits and joys that some do find
And mark the storms are me assign’d.

But alas, my faith is ever true,
Yet will she never rue
Nor yield me any grace;
Her eyes of fire, her heart of flint is made,
Whom tears nor truth may once invade.

Gentle Love, draw forth thy wounding dart,
Thou canst not pierce her heart;
For I, that to approve
By sighs and tears more hot than are my shafts
Did tempt, while she for triumph laughs.

15#) Go, crystal tears

Go, crystal tears, like to the morning showers,
And sweetly weep into thy Lady’s breast;
And as the dews revive the drooping flow’rs,
So let your drops of pity be address’d,
To quicken up the thoughts of my desert,
Which sleeps too sound, whilst I from her depart.

Haste, restless sighs, and let your burning breath
Dissolve the ice of her indurate heart,
While frozen rigour, like forgetful death,
Feels never any touch of my desert;
Yet sighs and tears to her I sacrifice,
Both from a spotless heart and patient eyes.

16#) Stay, Time, awhile thy flying

Stay, Time, awhile thy flying,
Stay and pity me dying.
For Fates and friends have left me,
And of comfort bereft me.
Come, come, close mine eyes; better to die blessed
Than to live thus distressed.

To whom shall I complain me
When thus friends do disdain me?
‘Tis Time that must befriend me,
Drown’d in sorrow, to end me.
Come, come, close mine eyes; better to die blessed
Than to live thus distressed.

Tears but augment this fuel
I feed by night, o cruel.
Light griefs can speak their pleasure;
Mine are dumb passing measure.
Quick, quick, close mine eyes; better to die blessed
Than here to live distressed.

17#) If that a sinner’s sighs

If that a sinner’s sighs be Angels’ food,
Or that repentant hearts be Angels’ wine,
Accept, O Lord, in this most pensive mood
These hearty sighs and doleful plaints of mine,
That went with Peter forth most sinfully,
But not, as Peter did, weep bitterly.

18#) Weep you no more

Weep you no more, sad fountains;
What need you flow so fast,
Look how the snowy mountains
Heav’n’s sun doth gently waste.
But my sun’s heavn’ly eyes
View not your weeping,
That now lies sleeping,
That now lies sleeping,
Softly, softly, now lies sleeping.

Sleep is a reconciling,
A rest that peace begets:
Doth not the sun rise smiling,
When fair at ev’n he sets?
Rest you, then, rest, sad eyes,
Melt not in weeping,
While she lies sleeping,
While she lies sleeping,
Softly, softly, now lies sleeping.

19#) M. George Whithead his Almand

20#) Wilt thou, unkind, thus reave me

Wilt thou, unkind, thus reave me
Of my heart, of my heart
And so leave me.
Farewell, farewell.
But yet or ere I part (O cruel)
Kiss me, kiss me, sweet my jewel.

Hope by disdain grows cheerless,
Fear doth love, love doth fear
Beauty peerless.
Farewell, etc.

If no delays can move thee,
Life shall die, death shall live
Still to love thee.
Farewell, etc.

21#) Tarleton’s Riserrectione

22#) Far from triumphing Court

Far from triumphing Court and wonted glory
He dwelt in shady unfrequented places,
Time’s prisoner now, he made his pastime story;
Gladly forgets Court’s erst-afforded graces.
The goddess whom he served to heaven is gone,
And he on earth in darkness left to moan.

23#) Lasso vita mia

Lasso vita mia mi fa morire,
Crudel’ amor mio cor consume,
Da mille ferite che me fa morir;
Ahi me! Deh! che non mi fa morire.
Crudel’ amor, mi fa soffrir mille martire.

24#) The Frog Galliard

25#) Now o now I needs must part

Now, oh now I needs must part,
Parting though I absent mourn,
Absence can no joy impart;
Joy once fled cannot return.
While I live I needs must love,
Love lives not when hope is gone.
Now at last despair doth prove
Love divided loveth none.
Sad despair doth drive me hence;
This despair unkindness sends.
If that parting be offence,
It is she which then offends.

Dear, when I am from thee gone,
Gone are all my joys at once.
I lov’d thee and thee alone,
In whose love I joyed once.
And although your sight I leave,
Sight wherein my joys do lie.
Till that death doth sense bereave,
Never shall affection die.
Sad despair doth drive me hence;
This despair unkindness sends.

Dear, if I do not return,
Love and I shall die together.
For my absence never mourn
Whome you might have joyed ever;
Part we must though now I die,
Die I do to part with you.
Him despair doth cause to lie
Who both livAd and dieth true.
Sad despair doth drive me hence,
This despair unkindness sends…

26#) Farewell, unkind

Farewell, unkind farewell, to me no more a father,
Since my heart holds my love most dear:
The wealth which thou dost reap another’s hand must gather,
Though thy heart still lies buried there.
Then farewell, O farewell; welcome my love, welcome my joy, for ever.

‘Tis not the vain desire of human fleeting beauty
Makes my mind to live, though my means do die.
Nor do I Nature wrong, though I forget my duty;
Love, not in the blood, but in the spirit, doth lie.
Then farewell, O farewell, etc.

I – INVOCATION
1 Psalm 100 2’04
II – IN THE PRESENCE OF A QUEEN
2 Lady Laiton’s Almain
3 Humour, say : a Dialogue
4 The Most Sacred Queen Elizabeth, her Galliard
5 Say, Love, if ever thou didst find
III – MY LOVE DOTH WAKE
6 Gaillard onwake, sweet love
7 Come away, come sweet love
8 Sleep, wayward thoughts
9 Come, heavy sleep
IV – TO DIE WITH THEE
10 Captain Digory Piper’s Galliard If my complaints
11 Pavan a 4
12 Can she excuse my wrongs
13 Lady, if you so spite me
14 Come again, sweet love doth now invite
V – GO, CRYSTAL TEARS
15 Go, crystal tears
16 Stay, Time, awhile thy flying
17 If that a sinner’s sights
18 Weep you no more, sad fountains
VI – THEN FAREWELL, O FAREWELL
19 M. George Withead his Almand
20 1 Wilt thou, unkind, thus reave me
21 Tarleton’s Riserrectione
22 Far from triumphing Court and wonted glory
23 Lasso vita mia
24 The Frog Gaillard
25 Now o now I needs must part
26 Farewell, unkind