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Performer: David Tayler ANONYMOUS: In a Garden so Green; Joy to the Person (Review by Michael Ullman) | lute | ANONYMOUS: In a Garden so Green; Joy to the Person (Review by Michael Ullman) | theorbo | ANONYMOUS: In a garden so green. Joy to the person. O Death rock me asleep (Review by Tom Moore) | archlute | ANONYMOUS: In a garden so green. Joy to the person. O Death rock me asleep (Review by Tom Moore) | lute | ANONYMOUS: In a garden so green. Joy to the person. O Death rock me asleep (Review by Tom Moore) | theorbo | ANONYMOUS: Pack-ington's Pound. Joy to the person of my love (Review by Michael Ullman) | lute | BLOW, JOHN: The self-banished (Review by Tom Moore) | archlute | BLOW, JOHN: The self-banished (Review by Tom Moore) | lute | BLOW, JOHN: The self-banished (Review by Tom Moore) | theorbo | BOLEYN, ANNE: O Death, Rock Me Asleep (Review by Michael Ullman) | lute | BOLEYN, ANNE: O Death, Rock Me Asleep (Review by Michael Ullman) | theorbo | CAMPION, THOMAS: It fell on a Summer's day. I care not for these ladies. Pined I am, and like to die. The peaceful western wind. Never weather-beaten sail. Now hath Flora robb'd her bow'rs. Thrice toss these oaken ashes (Review by Michael Ullman) | lute | CAMPION, THOMAS: Now hath Flora robb’d her bow’rs. Author of light. Come let us sound with melody. Oft have I sigh’d for him. Turn back, you wanton flyer (Review by Michael Ullman) | lute | CORKINE: He that hath no mistress (Review by Michael Ullman) | lute | DOWLAND, JOHN: Awake, Sweet Love (Review by Michael Ullman) | lute | DOWLAND, JOHN: Can she excuse my wrongs. Think'st thou then by thy feigning. Winter jumps (Review by Michael Ullman) | lute | DOWLAND, JOHN: Come again, sweet love. His golden locks time hath to silver turn’d. Flow my tears. It was a Time. Sorrow, stay! Can she excuse my wrongs. A shepherd in a shade. Time stands still. Go, crystal tears. I saw my lady weep. Away with these self-loving lads (Review by Michael Ullman) | lute | DOWLAND, JOHN: Come again. Toss not my Soul. Fine Knacks for Ladies. Mourn, Day is with Darkness fled. His Golden Locks. In darkness let me dwell. Lachrimae. What if I never speed. Awake, sweet love. Away with these selfe loving lads. All ye who love or fortune hath betray'd. Think'st thou then by thy feinging. Weep you no more. I saw my lade weep. Tarleton's Riserrectione. Time stands still. If my complaints could passion move. Tell me true love. O sweet woods. The lowest trees have tops. Now, oh Now I needs must part (Review by Michael Ullman) | lute | DOWLAND, JOHN: The Lowest Trees have Tops; Awake, sweet love; Go crystal Tears (Review by Michael Ullman) | lute | DOWLAND, JOHN: The Lowest Trees have Tops; Awake, sweet love; Go crystal Tears (Review by Michael Ullman) | theorbo | DOWLAND, JOHN: The lowest trees have tops; Awake sweet love; O sweet woods! Go crystal tears (Review by Tom Moore) | archlute | DOWLAND, JOHN: The lowest trees have tops; Awake sweet love; O sweet woods! Go crystal tears (Review by Tom Moore) | lute | DOWLAND, JOHN: The lowest trees have tops; Awake sweet love; O sweet woods! Go crystal tears (Review by Tom Moore) | theorbo | FERRABOSCO II, ALFONSO: So beauty on the waters stood. Pavan (Review by Michael Ullman) | lute | HART, JAMES: Adieu to the Pleasures and Follies of Love (Review by Michael Ullman) | lute | HART, JAMES: Adieu to the Pleasures and Follies of Love (Review by Michael Ullman) | theorbo | HART, JAMES: Adieu to the pleasures and follies of love (Review by Tom Moore) | archlute | HART, JAMES: Adieu to the pleasures and follies of love (Review by Tom Moore) | lute | HART, JAMES: Adieu to the pleasures and follies of love (Review by Tom Moore) | theorbo | JOHNSON, ROBERT: Have you seen but a bright Lily grow, Woods, Rocks and Mountains; Dear, do not your fair Beauty wrong (Review by Michael Ullman) | lute | JOHNSON, ROBERT: Have you seen but a bright Lily grow, Woods, Rocks and Mountains; Dear, do not your fair Beauty wrong (Review by Michael Ullman) | theorbo | JOHNSON, ROBERT: Have you seen but a bright lily grow (Review by Tom Moore) | archlute | JOHNSON, ROBERT: Have you seen but a bright lily grow (Review by Tom Moore) | lute | JOHNSON, ROBERT: Have you seen but a bright lily grow (Review by Tom Moore) | theorbo | JOHNSON, ROBERT: Oh, let us howl. Have you seen the bright lily grow? Dear, do not your fair beauty wrong. Hark! hark! the lark! Come hither you that love. Full fathom five (Review by Michael Ullman) | lute | JOHNSON, ROBERT: Woods, rocks, and mountains (Review by Tom Moore) | archlute | JOHNSON, ROBERT: Woods, rocks, and mountains (Review by Tom Moore) | lute | JOHNSON, ROBERT: Woods, rocks, and mountains (Review by Tom Moore) | theorbo | JONES, ROBERT: Go to bed sweet muse (Review by Michael Ullman) | lute | LANIER: The Marigold; Love’s Constancy (Review by Michael Ullman) | lute | LANIER: The Marigold; Love’s Constancy (Review by Michael Ullman) | theorbo | LANIER: The marigold. Love’s constancy (Review by Tom Moore) | archlute | LANIER: The marigold. Love’s constancy (Review by Tom Moore) | lute | LANIER: The marigold. Love’s constancy (Review by Tom Moore) | theorbo | PILKINGTON: Rest sweet nymphs (Review by Michael Ullman) | lute | PURCELL, HENRY: Here the Deities approve; ’Twas within a Furlong of Edinboro Town; With Him He Brings the Partner, I saw that You were grown so High; Bess of Bedlam; The Plaint (Review by Michael Ullman) | lute | PURCELL, HENRY: Here the Deities approve; ’Twas within a Furlong of Edinboro Town; With Him He Brings the Partner, I saw that You were grown so High; Bess of Bedlam; The Plaint (Review by Michael Ullman) | theorbo | PURCELL, HENRY: Here the deities approve; ’Twas within a furlong; Ground in C minor. I saw that you were grown so high. O solitude. Bess of Bedlam. The plaint (Review by Tom Moore) | archlute | PURCELL, HENRY: Here the deities approve; ’Twas within a furlong; Ground in C minor. I saw that you were grown so high. O solitude. Bess of Bedlam. The plaint (Review by Tom Moore) | lute | PURCELL, HENRY: Here the deities approve; ’Twas within a furlong; Ground in C minor. I saw that you were grown so high. O solitude. Bess of Bedlam. The plaint (Review by Tom Moore) | theorbo | SONGS, POPULAR: This merry pleasant Spring. There were three ravens. The dark is my delight. Willow song. Miserere my Maker. Where the bee sucks. O Death, rock me asleep (Review by Michael Ullman) | lute |
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