Die Werke von John Dowland

The First Booke of Songes or Ayres

First Book

Dowlands The First Booke of Songes or Ayres aus dem Jahr 1597 war seine erste Veröffentlichung. Der Text auf dem Titelblat lautet:

THE
FIRST BOOKE
of Songes or Ayres
of fowre partes with Ta-
bleture for the Lute:
So made that all the partes
together, or either of them seue
rally may be song to the Lute,
Orpherian or Viol de gambo.
Composed by Iohn Dowland Lute-
nist and Bachelor of musicke in
both the Vniuersities.
Also an inuention by the sayd
Author for two to playe vpon one Lute.

Nachfolgend die Liste aller 21 Stücke von The First Booke of Songes or Ayres, in der Reihenfolge wie Dowland sie angibt:

 


Vnquiet thoughts

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Unquiet thoughts, your civil slaughter stint
And wrap your wrongs within a pensive heart:
And you, my tongue, that makes my mouth a mint
And stamps my thoughts to coin them words by art,
Be still, for if you ever do the like
I'll cut the string that makes the hammer strike.

But what can stay my thoughts they may not start,
Or put my tongue in durance for to die?
Whenas these eyes, the keys of mouth and heart,
Open the lock where all my love doth lie,
I'll seal them up within their lids forever:
So thoughts and words and looks shall die together.

How shall I then gaze on my mistress' eyes?
My thoughts must have some vent: else heart will break.
My tongues would rust as in my mouth it lies,
If eyes and thoughts were free, and that not speak.
Speak then, and tell the passions of desire,
Which turns mine eyes to floods, my thoughts to fire. 


Who euer thinks or hopes of loue for loue

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Kommentar: Peerson arrangierte dieses Stück als Madrigal. In Dowlands Original Version aus dem Jahr 1597 sind viele Fehler enthalten, die in der Ausgabe von 1606 korrigiert wurden.
Text:

Who ever thinks or hopes of love for love:
Or who, belov'd, in Cupid's laws doth glory:
Who joys in vows, or vows not to remove:
Who by this light god hath not been made sorry:
Let him see me eclipsed from my sun
With dark clouds of an earth quite overrun.

Who thinks that sorrows felt, desires hidd'n,
Or humble faith in constant honour armed
Can keep love from the fruit that is forbidd'n,
Who thinks that change is by entreaty charmed,
Looking on me let him know love's delights
Are treasures hid in cave but kept by sprites. 


My thoughts are wingd with hopes

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Kommentar: Das Lied hat die Form einer Galliarde. Die Melodie erscheint in Lachrimae als Sir John Souch his Galiard
Text:

My thoughts are wing'd with hopes, my hopes with love. Mount, Love, unto the moon in clearest night And you my thoughts that some mistrust do carry, If for mistrust my mistress do you blame, If she for this with clouds do mask her eyes, And make the heavens dark with her disdain, And say, as she doth in the heavens move, In earth, so wanes and waxeth my delight. Say though you alter, yet you do not vary, As she doth change and yet remain the same. With windy sighs disperse them in the skies, Or with thy tears dissolve them into rain, And whisper this but softly in her ears, Hope oft doth hang the head and Trust shed tears. Distrust doth enter hearts but not in feet, And love is sweetest seasoned with suspect Thoughts, hopes and love, return to me no more Till Cynthia shine as she hath done before.. 


If my complaints could passions moue

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Kommentar: Dieses Lied erscheint in Lachrimae als Captain Digorie Piper, his Galliard.
Text:

If my complaints could passions move,
Or make Love see wherein I suffer wrong:
My passions were enough to prove,
That my despairs had govern'd me too long.
O Love, I live and die in thee,
Thy grief in my deep sighs still speaks:
Thy wounds do freshly bleed in me,
My heart for thy unkindness breaks:
Yet thou dost hope when I despair,
And when I hope, thou mak'st me hope in vain.
Thou say's thou canst my harms repair,
Yet for redress, thou let'st me still complain.

Can Love be rich, and yet I want?
Is Love my judge, and yet am I condemn'd?
Thou plenty hast, yet me dost scant:
Thou made a god, and yet thy pow'r contemn'd.
That I do live, it is thy pow'r:
That I desire it is thy worth:
If Love doth make men's lives too sour,
Let me not love, nor live henceforth.
Die shall my hopes, but not my faith,
That you that of my fall may hearers be
May here despair, which truly saith,
I was more true to Love than Love to me. 


Can she excuse my wrongs with vertues cloake

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Kommentar: Dieses Lied erscheint in Lachrimae als The Earl of Essex's Galliard.
Text:

Can she excuse my wrongs with Virtue's cloak?
Shall I call her good when she proves unkind?
Are those clear fires which vanish into smoke?
Must I praise the leaves where no fruit I find?
No, no; where shadows do for bodies stand,
That may'st be abus'd if thy sight be dim.
Cold love is like to words written on sand,
Or to bubbles which on the water swim.
Wilt thou be thus abused still,
Seeing that she will right thee never?
If thou canst not o'ercome her will,
Thy love will be thus fruitless ever.

Was I so base, that I might not aspire
Unto those high joys which she holds from me?
As they are high, so high is my desire,
If she this deny, what can granted be?
If she will yield to that which reason is,
It is reason's will that love should be just.
Dear, make me happy still by granting this,
Or cut off delays if that I die must.
Better a thousand times to die
Than for to love thus still tormented:
Dear, but remember it was I
Who for thy sake did die contented. 


"Can she excuse my wrongs" by John Dowland from Valeria Mignaco & Alfonso Marin on Vimeo.


Now, O now I needs must part

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Kommentar: Dieses Lied ist trotz der Courante Form bekannt als The Frog Galliard.
Text:

Now, oh now I needs must part,
Parting though I absent mourn.
Absence can no joy impart:
Joy once fled cannot return.
While I live I needs must love,
Love lives not when Hope is gone.
Now at last Despair doth prove,
Love divided loveth none.
Sad despair doth drive me hence;
This despair unkindness sends.
If that parting be offence,
It is she which then offends.

Dear when I from thee am gone,
Gone are all my joys at once,
I lov'd thee and thee alone,
In whose love I joyed once.
And although your sight I leave,
Sight wherein my joys do lie,
Till that death doth sense bereave,
Never shall affection die.
Sad despair doth drive me hence;
This despair unkindness sends.
If that parting be offence,
It is she which then offends.

Dear, if I do not return,
Love and I shall die together.
For my absence never mourn
Whom you might have joyed ever;
Part we must though now I die,
Die I do to part with you.
Him despair doth cause to lie
Who both liv'd and dieth true.
Sad despair doth drive me hence;
This despair unkindness sends.
If that parting be offence,
It is she which then offends. 


Deare if you change ile neuer chuse againe

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Text:

Dear, if you change, I'll never choose again.
Sweet, if you shrink, I'll never think of love.
Fair, if you fail, I'll judge all beauty vain.
Wise, if too weak, more wits I'll never prove.
Dear, Sweet, Fair, Wise, change, shrink, nor be not weak:
And on my faith, my faith shall never break.

Earth with her flowers shall sooner heav'n adorn.
Heaven her bright stars through earth's dim globe shall move.
Fire heat shall lose, and frosts of flame be born.
Air, made to shine, as black as hell shall prove.
Earth, Heav'n, Fire, Air, the world transform'd shall view,
Ere I prove false to faith, or strange to you. 


Burst forth my teares

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Kommentar: Diese Lied wurde im Jahr 1600 unter dem Titel To His Flocks gedruckt.
Text:

Burst forth, my tears, assist my forward grief,
And show what pain imperious Love provokes.
Kind tender lambs, lament Love's scant relief
And pine, since pensive Care my freedom yokes.
O pine to see me pine, my tender flocks.

Sad, sad pining Care, that never may have peace,
At Beauty's gate in hope of pity knocks.
But Mercy sleeps while deep Disdain increase,
And Beauty Hope in her fair bosom locks.
O grieve to hear my grief, my tender flocks.

Like, like to the winds my sighs have winged been,
Yet are my sighs and suits repaid with mocks.
I plead, yet she repineth at my teen.
O ruthless rigour harder than the rocks,
That both the shepherd kills and his poor flocks. 


Go Cristall teares

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Text:

Go crystal tears, like to the morning showers,
And sweetly weep into thy lady's breast.
And as the dews revive the drooping flow'rs.
So let your drops of pity be address'd
To quicken up the thoughts of my desert,
Which sleeps too sound whilst I from her depart.

Haste, restless sighs, and let your burning breath
Dissolve the ice of her indurate heart,
Whose frozen rigour, like forgetful Death,
Feels never any touch of my desert,
Yet sighs and tears to her I sacrifice
Both from a spotless heart and patient eyes. 


Thinkst thou then by thy faining

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Kommentar: Dieses Lied hat die Form einer Allemande.
Text:

Thinkst thou then by thy fayning
Sleep with a proud disdayning,
Or with thy crafty closing,
Thy cruell eyes reposing.
To driue me from thy sight,
When sleepe yeelds more delight,
Such harmlesse beauty gracing ?
And while sleepe fayned is,
   May not I steale a kisse,
Thy quiet armes embracing ?

O that my sleepe dissembled,
Were to a trance resembled,
Thy cruell eyes deceiuing,
Of liuely sense bereauing :
Then should my loue require
Thy loues vnkind despire,
While fury triumpht boldly
In beauties sweet disgrace :
   And liv'd in sweet embrace
Of her that lov'd so coldly.

Should then my loue aspiring,
Forbidden ioyes desiring,
So farre exceed the duety
That vertue owes to beautie ?
No, Loue seeke not thy blisse,
Beyond a simple kisse :
For such deceits are harmelesse,
Yet kisse a thousand fold.
   For kisses may be bold
When louely sleep is armlesse. 


Come away, come sweet loue

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Kommentar: Dieses Lied wurde 1600 unter dem Namen To his Love gedruckt.
Text:

Come away, come sweet loue,
The golden morning breakes.
All the earth, all the ayre,
of loue and pleasure speakes:
Teach thine armes then to embrace,
And sweet rosie lips to kisse,
And mix our soules in mutuall blisse,
Eyes were made for beauties grace,
Viewing, ruing loues long pains,
Procur'd by beauties rude disdaine.

Come away, come sweet loue,
The golden morning wastes,
While the Sunne from his sphere,
his fiery arrowes casts :
Making all the shadowes flie,
Playing, staying in the groue,
To entertaine the stealth of loue.
Thither sweet loue let vs hie,
Flying, dying in desire,
Wingd with sweet hopes and heau'nly fire.

Come away, come sweet loue,
Doe not in vaine adorne
Beauties grace that should rise,
Like to the naked morne :
Lillies on the riuers side,
And faire Cyprian flowres new blowne,
Desire no beauties but their owne.
Ornament is nurse of pride,
Pleasure measure loues delight :
Haste then sweet loue our wished flight. 


Rest awhile you cruell cares

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Kommentar: Ein auffälliger Kontrast besteht zwischen dem ersten großen Teil, der rhythmisch sehr kantig ist, und dem zweiten kleineren Teil, der eher ruhig verläft.
Text:

Rest a while you cruell cares,
Be not more seuere then loue.
Beautie kils and beautie spares,
And sweet smiles sad sighes remoue:
Laura, faire queene of my delight,
Come grant me loue in loues despite,
And if I euer faile to honor thee:
   Let this heauenly light I see,
Bee as darke as hell to me.

If I speake, my words want wait,
Am I mute, my heart doth breake,
If I sigh, she fears deceit,
Sorrow then for me must speake:
Cruell, vnkind, with fauour view
The wound that first was made by you:
And if my torments fayned be,
   Let this heauenly light I see
Be as darke as hell to mee.

Neuer houre of pleasing rest
Shall reuiue my dying ghost,
Till my soule hath repossest,
The sweet hope which loue hath lost:
Laura redeeme the soule that dies,
By furie of thy murdering eyes :
And if it proue vnkinde to thee,
   Let this heauenly light I see
Be as darke as hell to mee. 


Sleepe wayward thoughts

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Kommentar: Ein sehr schönes Lied, das zu jeder Angelegenheit gespielt werden kann.
Text:

Sleep, waiward thoughts, and rest you with my loue :
Let not my loue bee with my loue diseasd.
Touch not proud hands, lest you her anger moue:
But pine you with my longings long displeasd.
Thus, while she sleeps, I sorrow for her sake:
So sleeps my loue, and yet my loue doth wake.

But, O the fury of my restlesse feare !
The hidden anguish of my flesh desires !
The glories and the beauties that appear:
Betweene her browes, neere Cupids closed fires,
Thus while she sleeps, moues sighing for her sake:
So sleeps my loue, and yet my loue doth wake.

My loue doth rage, and yet my loue doth rest :
Feare in my loue, and yet my loue secure:
Peace in my loue, and yet my loue oppresst:
Impatient, yet of perfect temperature.
Sleepe, dainty loue, while I sigh for thy sake:
So sleeps my loue, and yet my loue doth wake. 


All ye whom loue of fortune hath betraide

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Text:

All ye whom loue or fortune hath betrayed,
All ye, that dream of blisse but liue in griefe,
All ye, whose hopes are euer more delaid,
All ye, whose sighes or sicknesse wants reliefe;
Lend cares and teares to mee most haplesse man,
That sings my sorrowes like the dying Swanne.

Care that consumes the heart withinward paine,
Paine that presents sad care in outward view,
Both tyrant-like enforce me to complaine;
But still in vaine : for none my plaints will rue.
Teares sighes and ceaselesse cries alone I spend:
My woe wants comfort, and my sorrow end. 


Wilt though vnkind thus reaue me of my hart

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Kommentar: Einige Sammlungen empfehlen ein schnelles Tempo, effektiver kann jedoch ein langsameres Tempo sein.
Text:

Wilt thou vnkind thus reaue me
of my heart, of my heart,
and so leaue me ?
Farewell, farewell
but yet or ere I part (O cruell),
kisse me sweet, kisse me sweet my Iewell.

Hope by disdaine growes cheerelesse,
feare doth loue, loue doth feare,
beauty peerelesse.    Farewell.

If no delayes can moue thee,
life shall dye, death shall liue,
still to loue thee.    Farewell.

Yet be thou mindfull euer,
heat from fire, fire from heat,
none can seuer.    Farewell.

True loue cannot be changed,
though delight from desert
bee estranged.    Farewell. 


Would my conceit that first enforst my woe

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Kommentar: Die Stimme übernimmt kontrapunktische Teile, eher einem Stück für Violas gleichend.
Text:

Would my conceit, that first enforst my woe,
Or els mine eyes which still the same increase,
Might be extinct, to end my sorrowes so,
Which now are such as nothing can release:
Whose life is death, whose sweet each change of sowre,
And eke whose hell reneweth euery houre.

Each houre amidst the deepe of hell I frie,
Each houre I wast and wither where I sit:
But that sweet houre wherein I wish to die,
My hope alas may not inioy it yet,
Whose hope is such, bereaued of the blisse,
Which vnto all saue mee allotted is.

To all saue mee is free to liue or die,
To all saue mee remaineth hap or hope:
But all perforce I must abandon, I,
Sith Fortune still directs my hap aslope,
Wherefore to neither hap nor hope I trust,
But to my thralles I yeeld, for so I must. 


Come again: sweet loue doth now enuite

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Kommentar: Das "die" am Ende der ersten Strophe ist ein bekannter elisabethanischer Ausdruck für den Geschlechtsverkehr.
Text:

Come again: sweet loue doth now inuite,
Thy graces that refraine,
To do me due delight,
To see, to hear, to touch, to kiss, to die,
With thee againe in sweetest sympathy.

Come againe that I may cease to mourn,
Through thy vnkind disdaine:
For now left and forlorne,
I sit, I sigh, I weepe, I faint, I die,
In deadly paine and endlesse miserie.

All the day the sun that lends me shine,
By frownes doth cause me pine,
And feeds mee with delay:
Her smiles, my springs, that makes my ioyes to grow,
Her frownes the winters of my woe:

All the night my sleepes are full of dreames,
My eyes are full of streames.
My heart takes no delight,
To see the fruits and ioyes that some do find,
And marke the stormes are mee assignde.

Out alas, my faith is euer true,
Yet will she neuer rue,
Nor yeeld my any grace:
Her eyes of fire, her heart of flint is made,
Whom teares, nor truth may once inuade.

Gentle loue, draw forth thy wounding dart,
Thou canst not peerce her heart,
For I that to approue,
By sighs and teares more hot then are thy shafts,
Did tempt while she for triumph laughs. 


His goulden locks time hath to siluer turnd

Aufbau: G-Dur, 3/2, 2/2 Takt, 3 Strophen.
Kommentar: Dieses Lied wurde 1590 zum traditionellen Lanzenwettbewerb zu Ehren der Königin von Robert Hales vorgetragen. Der Text stammt vermutlich von Sir Henry Lee.
Text:

His golden locks time hath to silver turnde,
O time too swift, O swiftnesse neuer ceasing!
His youth gainst time and age hath euer spurnd,
But spurnd in vain, youth waneth by increasing.
Beautie, strength, youth are flowers but fading seene:
Dutie, Faith, Loue are roots and euer greene.

His helmet now shall make a hiue for Bees,
And louers Sonets turne to holy Psalmes:
A man at armes must now serue on his knees,
And feed on prayers which are ages almes:
But though from Court to cotage he depart,
His Saint is sure of his vnspotted heart.

And when he saddest sits in homely Cell,
Hee'l teach his swaines this Caroll for a song,
Blest be the hearts that wish my Soueraigne well,
Curst be the soule that thinks her any wrong.
Yee gods allow this aged man his right,
To be your Beadsman now that was your Knight. 


Awake sweet loue thou art returnd

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Kommentar: Ursprünglich war dieses Lied ein Lauten-Solo in Galliarden Form.
Text:

Awake, sweet loue, thou art returnd:
My hart, which long in absence mournd,
Liues now in perfect ioy.
Let loue, which never absent dies,
Now liue for euer in her eyes,
Whence came my first annoy.
Only her selfe hath seemed faire:
She only I could loue,
She only draue me to despaire,
When she vnkind did proue.
Despaire did make me wish to die;
That I my ioyes might end:
She only, which did make me flie,
My state may now amend.

If she esteeme thee now aught worth,
She will not grieue thy loue henceforth,
Which so despaire hath proued.
Despaire hath proued now in mee,
That loue will not vnconstant be,
Though long in vaine I loued.
If shee at last reward thy loue,
And all thy harmes repaire,
Thy happinesse will sweeter proue,
Raisd vp from deep despaire.
And if that now thou welcom be,
When thou with her doest meet,
She all the while but playde with thee,
To make thy ioys more sweete. 


Come heauy sleepe

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Kommentar: Die erste Strophe wurde auch von Robert Johnson vertont.
Text:

Come heauy sleepe the image of true death,
And close vp these my weary weeping eies:
Whose spring of tears doth stop my vitall breath,
And tears my hart with sorrows sigh swoln cries:
Come and posses my tired thoughts worne soule,
That liuing dies till thou on me be stoule.

Come shadow of my end, and shape of rest,
Allied to death, child to his blackefac't night:
Come thou and charme these rebels in my breast,
Whose waking fancies doe my mind affright.
O come sweet sleepe, come, or I die for euer:
Come ere my last sleepe comes, or come neuer. 


Awaie with these selfe louing lads

Aufbau: G-Dur, 1/1 Takt, 5 Strophen.
Kommentar: Ein merkwürdiges Lied mit einigen ungewöhnlichen Textzeilen.
Text:

Away with these selfe louing lads,
Whom Cupids arrow neuer glads.
Away poore soules that sigh and weep,
In loue of them that lie and sleepe.
For Cupid is a medow God,
And forceth none to kisse the rod.

God Cupids shaft, like destinie,
Doth eyther good or ill decree:
Desert is borne out of his bow,
Reward vpon his foot doth goe.
What fools are they that haue not known
That loue likes no lawes but his owne?

My songs they be of Cynthias praise,
I weare her rings on holy dayes,
On euery tree I write her name,
And euery day I reade the same:
Where honor, Cupids riuall is,
There miracles are seene of his.

If Cynthia craue her ring of mee,
I blot her name out of the tree.
If doubt do darken things held deare,
Then welfare nothing once a yeare:
For many run, but one must win,
Fools onely hedge the Cuckoe in.

The worth that worthinesse should moue
Is loue, which is the bowe of loue;
And loue as well the Foster can,
As can the mighty Nobleman:
Sweet Saint, tis true you worthy be,
Yet without loue nought worth to me..