First Booke of Songes, 1597 - XXI. Away with these self-loving lads-The Consort Of Musicke/Anthony Rooley

[00:00.91]away with these self-loving lads, [00:03.68]whom cupid's arrow never glads, [00:08.10]away, poor souls that sigh and weep [00:11.34]in love of those that lie and sleep, [00:15.88]for cupid is a meadow god, [00:18.84]and forceth none to kiss the rod. [00:23.67]for cupid is a meadow god, [00:26.39]and forceth none to kiss the rod. [00:31.89]god cupids shaft, like destiny, [00:34.87]doth either good or ill decree, [00:39.11]desert is born out of his bow, [00:42.34]reward upon his foot doth go [00:46.68]what fools are they that have not known [00:49.85]that love like no laws but his own! [00:54.50]what fools are they that have not known [00:57.58]that love like no laws but his own! [01:03.34]my songs that be of cynthia's praise [01:06.47]i wear her rings on holidays, [01:10.86]on every tree i write her name, [01:13.99]and ev'ry day i read the same, [01:18.78]where honour cupid's rival is [01:21.86]there miracles are seen of his. [01:26.45]where honour cupid's rival is [01:29.67]there miracles are seen of his. [01:35.35]if cynthia crave her ring of me, [01:38.72]i blot her name out of a tree, [01:43.02]if doubt do darken things held dear, [01:46.47]then well fare nothing once a year! [01:50.96]for many run but one must win, [01:54.04]fools only hedge the cuckoo in. [01:58.62]for many run but one must win, [02:01.59]fools only hedge the cuckoo in. [02:06.80]the worth that worthiness should move is love, [02:11.07]which is the bow of love, [02:14.77]and love as well the foster can [02:17.90]as can the mighty noble man, [02:22.43]sweet saint, 'tis true you worhty be, [02:25.57]yet without love naught worth to me. [02:30.91]sweet saint, 'tis true you worhty be, [02:33.93]yet without love naught worth to me. [02:33.99]fools only hedge the cuckoo in.