Choice ayres, songs, & dialogues to sing to the theorbo-lute, or bass-viol being most of the newest ayres and songs, sung at court, and at the publick theatres / composed by several gentlemen of His Majesties musick, and others, newly reprinted with large additions.

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Title
Choice ayres, songs, & dialogues to sing to the theorbo-lute, or bass-viol being most of the newest ayres and songs, sung at court, and at the publick theatres / composed by several gentlemen of His Majesties musick, and others, newly reprinted with large additions.
Publication
London :: Printed by William Godbid, and are sold by John Playford ...,
1676.
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"Choice ayres, songs, & dialogues to sing to the theorbo-lute, or bass-viol being most of the newest ayres and songs, sung at court, and at the publick theatres / composed by several gentlemen of His Majesties musick, and others, newly reprinted with large additions." In the digital collection Early English Books Online 2. https://name.umdl.umich.edu/A55053.0001.001. University of Michigan Library Digital Collections. Accessed May 5, 2024.

Pages

Page 28

〈♫〉〈♫〉 GIve o're foolish heart, and make hast to despair; For Daphne re∣gards not thy Vows nor thy Pray'r: When I plead for thy passion, thy pains to prolong: She courts her Gittar, and replyes with a Song. No more shall true Lovers such beauties adore: Were the gods so severe, men would worship no more.

II.
No more will I wait, like a Slave at your Door, I'le spend the cold Night at your Window no more: My Lungs in long sighs, no more I'le exhale, Since your Pride is to make me grow sullen and pale. No more shall Amintas your pity implore, Were the gods so ingrate, men would worship no more.
III.
No more shall your frowns, or free humour perswade To court the fair Idol my Fancy hath made: When your saint's so neglected, your follies give o're, Your Deity's lost, and your beauties no more. No more shall true Lovers such Beauties adore, Were the gods so severe, men would worship no more.
IV.
How weak are the Vows of a Lover in pain, When flatter'd with hope, or opprest with disdain: No sooner my Daphne's bright eyes I review, But all is forgot, and I vow all a new. No more, fairest Nymph, I will murmur no more; Did the gods seem so fair, men would ever adore.
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