Diaphenia, like the daffadowndilly, White as the sun, fair as the lily, Heigh ho, how I do love thee! I do love thee as my lambs Are belovèd of their dams: How blest were I if thou would'st prove me. Diaphenia, like the spreading roses, That in thy sweets all sweets [incloses]1, Fair sweet, how I do love thee! I do love thee as each flower Loves the sun's life-giving power; For dead, thy breath to life might move me. Diaphenia, like to all things blessèd, When all thy praises are expressèd, Dear joy, how I do love thee! As the birds do love the spring, Or the bees their careful king, -- Then in requite, sweet virgin, love me!
Five Spring Songs
Song Cycle by Geoffrey Bush (1920 - 1998)
1. Diaphenia  [sung text not yet checked]
Authorship:
- possibly by Henry Constable (1562 - 1613), "Damelus' song to Diaphenia"
- possibly by Henry Chettle (c1564 - c1607), "Damelus' song to Diaphenia"
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Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- FRE French (Français) (Tim Palmer) , copyright © 2017, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
1 Argento, Browne, Moeran, and Stanford use the spelling "encloses"
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
2. Lay a Garland on my Hearse  [sung text not yet checked]
Lay a garland on my hearse, Of the dismal yew, Maidens, willow branches [bear]1, Say I died true. My love was false, but I was firm [From my hour of birth;]2 Upon my buried body lie Lightly, [gentle]3 earth.
Authorship:
- by Francis Beaumont (1584 - 1616), "Aspatia's song", appears in The Maid's Tragedy, first published 1610
- by John Fletcher (1579 - 1625), "Aspatia's song", appears in The Maid's Tragedy, first published 1610
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Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- DUT Dutch (Nederlands) (Nicolaas (Koos) Jaspers) , copyright © 2009, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- GER German (Deutsch) (Anonymous/Unidentified Artist)
1 Pearsall, A. Taylor: "wear"
2 omitted by Pearsall and A. Taylor
3 Pearsall, A. Taylor: "thou gentle"
Researcher for this page: Ted Perry
3. What thing is Love?  [sung text not yet checked]
What thing is love? I prithee tell. It is a prick, it is a sting, It is a pretty, pretty thing; It is a fire, it is a coal, Whose flame creeps in at every hole; And as my wit can best devise, Love's dwelling lies in ladies' eyes.
Authorship:
- by George Peele (1556? - 1596)
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Researcher for this page: Malcolm Wren [Guest Editor]4. Weep you No More Sad Fountains  [sung text not yet checked]
Weep you no more, sad fountains; What need [you]1 flow so fast? Look how the snowy mountains Heaven's sun doth gently waste! But my sun's heavenly eyes View not your weeping, That now lies sleeping, [Softly now, softly]2 lies Sleeping. Sleep is a reconciling, A rest that peace begets; Doth not the sun rise smiling When fair at [e'en]3 he sets? Rest you, then, rest, sad eyes! Melt not in weeping, While she lies sleeping, [Softly now, softly]2 lies Sleeping.
Authorship:
- by Anonymous / Unidentified Author ( 16th century )
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Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- FRE French (Français) (Guy Laffaille) , copyright © 2024, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- GER German (Deutsch) (Julia Hamann) , "Tränen", copyright © 2007, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
1 van Dieren: "ye"
2 van Dieren, Holst, Moeran: "Softly, now softly"
3 Parry: "eve"; Moeran, Quilter, van Dieren: "even"; Holst: "ev'n"
Researcher for this page: Ted Perry
5. Now the Lusty Spring is Seen  [sung text not yet checked]
Now the lusty spring is seen ; Golden yellow, gaudy blue, Daintily invite the view : Everywhere on every green Roses blushing as they blow And enticing men to pull, Lilies whiter than the snow, Woodbines of sweet honey full: All love’s emblems, and all cry, ‘Ladies, if not pluck’d, we die.’ Yet the lusty spring hath stay’d ; Blushing red and purest white Daintily to love invite Every woman, every maid : Cherries kissing as they grow, And inviting men to taste, Apples even ripe below, Winding gently to the waist : All love’s emblems, and all cry, ‘Ladies, if not pluck’d, we die.’
Authorship:
- by John Fletcher (1579 - 1625), "Love's Emblems"
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Researcher for this page: Malcolm Wren [Guest Editor]