Collected English Lutenist Partsongs II
£110.00
Edited by David Greer
First published in 1989
Pages: 272
Format: Paperback
Dimensions (mm): 330 x 254 x 24
Weight: 1.45kg
77 partsongs by John Danyel, Thomas Ford, Robert Jones, Thomas Campion and John Attey are presented in four-part score with lute tablature and transcription.
Any individual work from this volume is available in printed or digital (PDF) format on request (archive@stainer.co.uk).
CONTENTS
| Composer | Title |
|---|---|
| ATTEY, John | Bright star of beauty |
| ATTEY, John | In a grove of trees of myrtle |
| ATTEY, John | Joy, my muse, since there is one |
| ATTEY, John | Madam, for you I little grieve to die |
| ATTEY, John | My days, my months, my years I spend |
| ATTEY, John | My dearest and divinest love |
| ATTEY, John | On a time the amorous Silvy |
| ATTEY, John | Resound my voice, ye woods |
| ATTEY, John | Shall I tell you whom I love? |
| ATTEY, John | Sweet was the song the Virgin sung |
| ATTEY, John | The Gordian knot, which Alexander great |
| ATTEY, John | Think not ’tis I alone |
| ATTEY, John | Vain hope, adieu! |
| ATTEY, John | What is all this world but vain? |
| CAMPION, Thomas | A secret love or two I must confess |
| CAMPION, Thomas | As by the streams of Babylon |
| CAMPION, Thomas | Author of light |
| CAMPION, Thomas | Awake, awake, thou heavy sprite |
| CAMPION, Thomas | Bravely deck’d, come forth, bright day |
| CAMPION, Thomas | Come away, arm’d with love’s delights |
| CAMPION, Thomas | Come, cheerful day |
| CAMPION, Thomas | Come, you pretty false-eyed wanton |
| CAMPION, Thomas | Fain would I my love disclose |
| CAMPION, Thomas | Give beauty all her right |
| CAMPION, Thomas | Good men, show, if you can tell |
| CAMPION, Thomas | Harden now thy tired heart |
| CAMPION, Thomas | Her rosy cheeks, her ever-smiling eyes |
| CAMPION, Thomas | How eas’ly wert thou chained |
| CAMPION, Thomas | Jack and Joan they think no ill |
| CAMPION, Thomas | Lift up to heav’n, sad wretch |
| CAMPION, Thomas | Lighten, heavy heart, thy sprite |
| CAMPION, Thomas | Lo, when back mine eye |
| CAMPION, Thomas | Most sweet and pleasing are thy ways |
| CAMPION, Thomas | Never weather-beaten sail |
| CAMPION, Thomas | Now hath Flora robb’d her bow’rs |
| CAMPION, Thomas | O dear, that I with thee might live |
| CAMPION, Thomas | O what unhop’d for sweet supply |
| CAMPION, Thomas | Out of my soul’s depth |
| CAMPION, Thomas | Pin’d I am, and like to die |
| CAMPION, Thomas | Seek the Lord, and in his ways persever |
| CAMPION, Thomas | Sing a song of joy |
| CAMPION, Thomas | So many loves have I neglected |
| CAMPION, Thomas | Sweet, exclude me not |
| CAMPION, Thomas | The man of life upright |
| CAMPION, Thomas | The peaceful western wind |
| CAMPION, Thomas | There is none, O none but you |
| CAMPION, Thomas | Though your strangeness frets my heart |
| CAMPION, Thomas | To music bent is my retired mind |
| CAMPION, Thomas | Tune thy music to thy heart |
| CAMPION, Thomas | Vain men, whose follies |
| CAMPION, Thomas | View me, Lord, a work of thine |
| CAMPION, Thomas | What harvest half so sweet is |
| CAMPION, Thomas | Where are all thy beauties now |
| CAMPION, Thomas | Where she her sacred bow’r adorns |
| CAMPION, Thomas | Wise men patience never want |
| DANYEL, John | Now the earth, the skies, the air |
| DANYEL, John | What delight can they enjoy |
| FORD, Thomas | Come, Phyllis, come into these bow’rs |
| FORD, Thomas | Fair, sweet, cruel |
| FORD, Thomas | Go, Passions, to the cruel fair |
| FORD, Thomas | How shall I then describe my love? |
| FORD, Thomas | Not full twelve years twice told |
| FORD, Thomas | Now I see thy looks were feigned |
| FORD, Thomas | Since first I saw your face |
| FORD, Thomas | There is a lady sweet and kind |
| FORD, Thomas | Unto the temple of thy beauty |
| FORD, Thomas | What then is love, sings Corydon |
| JONES, Robert | And is it night? |
| JONES, Robert | Fain would I speak |
| JONES, Robert | Grief of my best love’s absenting |
| JONES, Robert | How should I show my love unto my love |
| JONES, Robert | I know not what |
| JONES, Robert | If in this flesh |
| JONES, Robert | O, he is gone, and I am here |
| JONES, Robert | O thread of life, when thou art spent |
| JONES, Robert | She hath an eye, ah me! ah me! |
| JONES, Robert | When I sit reading all alone |
