TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE Sir CHRISTOPHER HATTON, Knight, Lord Chancellor of England;

WILLIAM BYRD wisheth long life, and the same to be most healthy and happy.

HE OFTEN desires of many my good friends, Right Honourable! and the consideration of many untrue incorrected copies of divers of my Songs spread abroad; have been the two causes chiefly moving my consent, at length, to put in print the fruits of my small skill and labours in Music. Then the duty, honour and service due from me unto your Lordship, together with the remembrance of your judgement and love of that art, did move and embolden me to present this first printed work of mine in English, to pass under your Lordship's favour and protection; unworthy I confess, of the view or patronage of so worthy a personage. Yet remembering that small things sometimes do great service, and that repose is best tasted by bodies forewearied: I hoped that, by this occasion, these poor Songs of mine might happily yield some sweetness, repose, and recreation unto your Lordship's mind, after your daily pains and cares taken in the high affairs of the common wealth.

Most humbly beseeching your Lordship, that if my boldness herein be faulty, my dutiful good will and good meaning may excuse it: which, if I may so fortunately perceive, it shall encourage me to suffer some other things of more depth and skill to follow these; which being not yet finished, are of divers expected and desired. Incessantly beseeching our LORD to make your years happy and end blessed, I wish there were anything in me worthy of your Lordship to be commanded.

Most humbly, your Lordship's ever to command,
WILLIAM BYRD.

THE EPISTLE TO THE READER.

B

ENIGN Reader! Here is offered unto thy courteous acceptance! Music of sundry sorts, and to content divers humours. If thou be disposed to pray, here are Psalms! if to be merry, here are Sonnets! if to lament for thy sins, here are Songs of Sadness and Piety! if thou delight in music of great compass, here are divers songs, which being originally made for instruments to express the harmony and one voice to pronounce the ditty, are now framed, in all parts for voices to sing the same! If thou desire songs of small compass and fit for the reach of most voices: here are most in number of that sort! Whatsoever pains I have taken herein, I shall think to be well employed; if the same be well accepted, music thereby the better loved, and the more exercised.

In the expressing of these Songs, either by voices or instruments, if there happen to be any jar or disonance, blame not the printer! who, I do assure thee, through his great pains and diligence, doth here deliver to thee a perfect and true copy. If in the composition of these Songs, there be any fault by me committed, I desire the skilful, either with courtesy to let the same be concealed; or in friendly sort, to be thereof admonished; and at the next impression he shall find the error reformed; remembering always, that it is more easy to find a fault than to amend it.

If thou find anything here worthy of liking and commendation, give praise unto GOD, from Whom, as from a most pure and plentiful fountain, all good gifts of science do flow: Whose Name be glorified for ever.

The most assured friend to all that love or learn Music,

WILLIAM BYRD.

SONNETS AND PASTORALS.

JOY NOT in no earthly bliss,

I force not CREESUS' wealth a straw:
For care, I know not what it is,
I fear not Fortune's fatal law.
My mind is such as may not move,
For beauty bright nor force of love.

I wish but what I have at will,
I wander not to seek for more.
I like the plain, I climb no hill,
In greatest storms, I sit on shore
And laugh at them that toil in vain,
To get what must be lost again.

I kiss not where I wish to kill,
I fain not love, where most I hate :
I break no sleep to win my will,,
I wait not at the mighty's gate:
I scorn no poor, nor fear no rich;
I feel no want, nor have too much.

The Court and cart I like, nor loath.
Extremes are counted worst of all;
The golden mean, between them both,
Doth surest sit and fears no fall.
This is my choice, for why? I find
No wealth is like the quiet mind.

Chil-I will

HOUGH AMARILLIS dance in green
Like Fairy Queen,

And sing full clear;

CORINNA can with smiling, cheer.
Yet since their eyes make heart so sore,
Hey ho! chil love no more.

My sheep are lost for want of food
And I so wood,

That all the day

I sit and watch a herd-maid gay;
Who laughs to see me sigh so sore,
Hey ho! chil love no more.

Her loving looks, her beauty bright,
Is such delight;

That all in vain,

I love to like, and lose my gain

For her, that thanks me not therefore;
Hey ho! chil love no more.

Ah, wanton eyes! my friendly foes
And cause of woes;

Your sweet desire

Breeds flames of ice, and freeze in fire:

Ye scorn to see me weep so sore,

Hey ho! chil love no more.

Love ye who list, I force him not,

Sith God it wot,

The more I wail,

The less my sighs and tears prevail :
What shall I do? but say therefore,
Hey ho chil love no more.

HO LIKES to love, let him take heed,
And wot you why?

Among the gods, it is decreed

That LOVE shall die;

And every wight that takes his part,
Shall forfeit each, a mourning heart.

The cause is this, as I have heard,
A sort of dames,

Whose beauty he did not regard,
Nor secret flames,

Complained before the gods above,
That gold corrupts the god of love.

The gods did storm to hear this news,
And there they swore;

That sith he did such dames abuse,
He should no more

Be god of love, but that he should
Both die, and forfeit all his gold.

His bow and shafts they took away,
Before his eyes;

And gave these dames a longer day

For to devise

Who should them keep; and they be bound, That love for gold should not be found.

These ladies striving long, at last

They did agree

To give them to a maiden chaste,

Whom I did see;

Who with the same, did pierce my breast: Her beauty's rare; and so I rest.