|
O Death, rock me asleep |
Anon |
|
Alas, alack, my heart is woe |
Anon |
|
Come tread the paths (Guichardo) |
Anon |
|
Farewell the bliss |
Anon |
|
Enforc'd by love and fear |
Robert Parsons |
|
Pour down, you pow'rs divine (Pandolpho) |
Robert Parsons |
|
No grief is like to mine |
[Robert Parsons] |
|
Ah, alas, you salt sea gods (Abradad) |
Richard Farrant |
|
O Jove, from stately throne |
Richard Farrant |
|
A doleful deadly pang |
Nicholas Strogers |
|
Send forth thy sighs |
Nathaniel Pattrick |
|
Prepare to die |
Nathaniel Pattrick |
|
Like as the day |
Patrick Mando |
|
For death of her |
William Cobbold |
|
Ye mortal wights |
William Cobbold |
|
Cease now, vain thoughts |
Nathaniel Giles |
|
O thrice-blessed earthbed |
John Tomkins |
|
How can the tree |
Anon |
|
In terrors trapp'd |
Anon |
|
Mistrust misdeems amiss |
Anon |
|
The saint I serve |
Anon |
|
Mistrust not truth |
[Nicholas?] Strogers |
|
O heav'nly God |
[Nicholas?] Strogers |
|
When May is in his prime |
Anon |
|
Ah, silly poor Joas |
Anon |
|
My little sweet darling |
Anon |
|
Without redress |
Anon |
|
In paradise |
Anon |
|
Amids my bale |
William Cobbold |
|
The haughty hearts |
William Cobbold |
|
Fie, fie, my fate |
[William?] Mundy |
|
Come, Charon, come |
Anon |
|
Climb not too high |
Nathaniel Pattrick |
|
Eliza is the fairest Queen |
Edward Johnson |
|
Come again |
Edward Johnson |
|
My mind to me |
Anon |
|
My heart doth pant for sorrow |
Anon |
|
Complain with tears |
Anon |
|
What first did break thee |
Anon |
|
Come, Holy Ghost |
Anon |
|
O Lord of whom I do depend |
Anon |
|
O Lord, turn not away thy face |
Anon |
|
Now Israel may say |
John Cosyn |
|
Except the Lord the house do make |
John Cosyn |
|
Lord, to thee I make my moan |
John Cosyn |
|
Yield unto God |
John Cosyn |
|
Ne reminiscaris |
John Wilbye |
|
Born is the Babe |
Anon |
|
Eliza, her name gives honour |
John Bennet |
|
Venus' birds |
John Bennet |
|
Cuckoo |
[Richard Nicholson?] |
|
In a merry May morn |
Richard Nicholson |
|
Joan, quoth John |
Richard Nicholson |
|
No more, good herdsman, of thy song |
Richard Nicholson |
|
Sweet, they say such virtue lies in your lips |
[Richard Nicholson?] |
|
I am not I of such belief (I) |
Richard Nicholson |
|
I am not I of such belief (II) |
William Wigthorpe |
|
Were I made juror |
William Wigthorpe |
|
Smiths are good fellows |
William Wigthorpe |
|
Of all jolly pastimes |
Anon |
|
What meat eats the Spaniard? |
Anon |
|
Hold, lingel, hold |
Anon |
|
The dark is my delight |
Anon |
|
This merry pleasant Spring |
Anon |
|
When Daphne from fair Phoebus did fly |
Anon |
|
Sweet was the song the Virgin sung |
Anon |
|
Sorrow, come |
John Dowland |
|
The cries of London |
Thomas Weelkes |
|
The cries of London |
Orlando Gibbons |
|
The cry of London |
Anon |
|
The city cries |
Richard Dering |
|
The country cries |
Richard Dering |
|
New fashions |
William Cobbold |
|
O Death, rock me asleep |
Anon |
|
Alas, alack, my heart is woe |
Anon |
|
Come tread the paths (Guichardo) |
Anon |
楽譜
