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Tidsskrift
Madrigaler
Thomas Tomkins
Musicke divine
To the shady woods
O let me live for true love
See, see the shepheards queene
Phyllis, yet see him dying
When I observe
Too much I once lamented
Fond men that doe so highly prize
O yes, has any found a lad
Weepe no more, thou sorry boy
Oft did I marle
Adieu, ye citty prisoning towers
Our hasty life away doth post
Come, sheapherds, sing with me
How great delight
No more I will thy love importune
Phillis, now cease to move me
Sure, there is no god of love
Fusca, in thy starry eyes
Cloris, when as I woe
Woe is me
Turne unto the Lord
It is my wel-beloveds voice
When David heard
Love, cease tormenting
Was ever wretch tormented
