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John Dowland
John Dowland
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The Collected Works (1997)
Flow my tears
If My Complaints Could Passions Move
First Booke of Songes (The Consort of Musicke feat. director: Anthony Rooley) (1989)
MY THOUGHTS ARE WING’D WITH HOPES
Can She Excuse My Wrongs
NOW O NOW I NEEDS MUST PART
Go Crystal Tears
THINK’ST THOU THEN BY THY FEIGNING
COME AWAY COME SWEET LOVE
REST AWHILE YOU CRUEL CARES
COME AGAIN SWEET LOVE DOTH NOW INVITE
Madrigal History Tour
Dowland: Fine Knacks for Ladies
Others
Disdain me still
Farewell too faire
I Saw My Lady Weep
Unquiet thoughts
Can She Excuse My Wrongs?
Sweet, stay awhile
Time stands still
Whoever thinks or hopes of love
Behold a wonder here
To ask for all thy love
“Ryght Honorable: As I Have Bin Most Bounde Unto Your Honor...”
Daphne was not so chaste
Die not before thy day
Flow, My Tears (Lachrimae)
Love those beams
Me, me, and none but me
Mourn, mourn, day is with darkness fled
Shall I strive with words to move
Were every thought an eye
When Phoebus first did Daphne love
“...Then in Time Passing on Mr. Johnson Died...”
Dear, if you change
Say love if ever thou didst find
Stay time a while thy flying
Burst forth my tears
Flow not so fast, ye fountains
Tell me true Love
The Lowest Trees Have Tops
Go, nightly cares
Praise blindness’ eyes, for seeing is deceit
What if I never speed
“...And Accordinge As I Desired Ther Cam a Letter...”
Fine Knacks for Ladies
From silent night
Love stood amazed at Beauty’s pain
O sweet woods
If floods of tears
Lend your ears
“...From Thence I Went to the Landgrave of Hessen...”
By a fountain where I lay
Fine knacks for Ladies
In this trembling shadow cast
Come, Heavy Sleep
If that a sinner’s sighs
Oh what hath overwrought my all amazed thought
Sleep, wayward thoughts
All ye, whom love or fortune hath betrayed
Come ye heavy states of night
Farewell unkind farewell
Weep you no more, sad fountains
White as lilies was her face
Wilt thou unkind thus reave me?
Come Again
Come again, sweet love doth now invite
Fie on this feigning, is love without desire
Woeful heart
Would my conceit that first enforc’d my woe
A shepherd in a shade
I must complain yet do enjoy
Where sin sore wounding
Wilt Thou Unkind Thus Reave Me
Faction that ever dwells
His golden locks
It was a time when silly bees could speak
My heart and tongue were twins
“...After My Departure I Caled to Mynde Our Conference...”
Awake, sweet love
Shall I sue, shall I seek for grace
The lowest trees have tops
Up merry mates
Weep You No More, Sad Fountains
Come, heavy Sleep
Toss not my soul
Welcome black night
What poor astronomers are they
Away with these self-loving lads
Cease, cease these false sports
Clear or Cloudy
Clear or cloudy
Come when I call
Humor say what makst thou here
“...Men Say That the Kinge of Spain Is Making Great Preparation...”
In Darkness Let Me Dwell
ALL YE WHOM LOVE OF FORTUNE
IF MY COMPLAINTS COULD PASSION MOVE
What if a day, or a month, or a year?