Stay time a while thy flying

John Dowland (1563-20 febbraio 1626): Stay time a while thy flying, da A Pilgrimes Solace (1612), n. 7. Duo Mignarda: Donna Stewart, voce; Ron Andrico, liuto.

Stay time a while thy flying,
Stay and pittie me dying.
For Fates and friends have left mee,
And of comfort bereft mee.
Come, come close mine eyes, better to dye blessed,
Then to live thus distressed.

To whom shall I complaine me,
When thus friends doe disdaine mee?
T’is time that must befriend me,
Drown’d in sorrow to end mee.
Come, come close mine eyes, better to dye blessed,
Then to live thus distressed.

Teares but augment this fewell,
I feede by night (oh cruell),
Light griefes can speake their pleasure,
Mine are dumbe passing measure.
Quicke, quicke, close mine eyes, better to dye blessed,
Then here to live distressed.


Dowland, A Pilgrimes Solace, n. 7

Annunci

Riccioli d’argento


John Dowland (1563-1626): His golden locks, dal First Booke of Songes (1597). Emma Kirkby, soprano; Anthony Rooley, liuto.

His golden locks Time hath to silver turned.
O Time too swift, O swiftness never ceasing:
His youth ‘gainst Time and Age hath ever spurned,
But spurned in vain; youth waneth by increasing.
Beauty, strength, youth are flowers but fading seen;
Duty, faith, love are roots, and ever green.

His helmet now shall make a hive for bees,
And lovers’ sonnets turn to holy psalms.
A man at arms must now serve on his knees,
And feed on prayers which are Age’s alms.
But though from Court to cottage he depart,
His Saint is sure of his unspotted heart.

And when he saddest sits in homely cell,
He’ll teach his swains this carol for a song:
Blest be the hearts that wish my Sov’reign well.
Curst be the soul that think her [him] any wrong.
Goddess [Ye gods], allow this aged man his right
To be your beadsman now, that was your knight.


His golden locks

Elegante paccottiglia per signore



John Dowland (1563-1626): Fine knacks for ladies, dal Second Booke of Songs or Ayres (1600). The King’s Singers (*) e Collegium Vocale Bydgoszcz.

Fine knacks for ladies, cheap choice, brave and new,
Good penny worths, but money cannot move;
I keep a fair, but for the fair to view;
A beggar may be liberal of love.

Though all my wares be trash, the heart is true.

Great gifts are guiles, and look for gifts again,
My trifles come as treasures from my mind,
It is a precious jewel to be plain:
Sometimes in shell, the orient pearls we find.

Of others take a sheaf, of me a grain!

Within the pack: pins, points, laces and gloves,
And diverse toys, fitting a country fair;
But my heart lives [But in my heart], where duty serves and loves:
Turtles and twins, court’s brood, a heav’nly pair.

Happy the heart that thinks of no removes.

(*) L’interpretazione dei King’s Singers dura in effetti 2′ 21″.


Mi fa morire

John Dowland (1563-20 febbraio 1626): Lasso vita mia, ayre (da A Pilgrimes Solace, 1612). Michael Chance, controtenore; Monica Huggett, violino; Bruce Dickey, cornetto; Paul Beyer, liuto e direzione.

Lasso vita mia, mi fa morire,
Crudel amor mio cor consume,
Da mille ferite, che mi fa morir.
Ahi me, deh, che non mi fa morire.
Crudel amor mi fa sofrir mille martire.


Dowland - Lasso vita mia p. 1

A Musicall Banquet III

John Dowland (1563-1626): In darkness let me dwell, ayre. Ellen Hargis, soprano; Jacob Heringman, liuto; Mary Springfels, viol.
Capolavoro di Dowland, il brano fu pubblicato dal figlio del compositore, Robert (1591-1641), nella raccolta A Musicall Banquet. Furnished with a varietie of delicious Ayres, Collected out of the best Authors in English, French, Spanish and Italian (Londra 1610).

In darkness let me dwell; the ground shall sorrow be,
The roof despair, to bar all cheerful light from me;
The walls of marble black, that moist’ned still shall weep;
My music, hellish jarring sounds, to banish friendly sleep.
Thus, wedded to my woes, and bedded in my tomb,
O let me living die, till death doth come, till death doth come.

Dowland, Idlmd

While she for triumphs laughs


John Dowland (1563-1626): Come again, ayre, dal First Booke of Songes (1597). Barbara Bonney, soprano; Jacob Heringman, liuto.



Lo stesso brano interpretato da membri del Consort of Musicke: Martyn Hill, tenore; Anthony Rooley, liuto; Trevor Jones, bass viol.

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.

Come again! that I may cease to mourn
Through thy unkind disdain;
For now left and forlorn
I sit, I sigh, I weep, I faint, I die
In deadly pain and endless misery.

All the day the sun that lends me shine
By frowns do cause me pine
And feeds me with delay;
Her smiles, my springs that makes my joys 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.

Out 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 do approve
By sighs and tears more hot than are thy shafts
Did tempt while she for triumph laughs.