anon.:


Robin is to the Greenwood gone

Byrd:


O Lord, make thy servant Elizabeth

Dowland:


Time stands still

Lady Rich, her Galliard

East, M:


Hence stars too dim of light

Ferrabosco, A II:


So beautie on the waters stood

Gibbons, O:


O clap your hands

Hunt, T:


Hark! did ye ever hear so sweet a singing?

Morley:


Hard by a crystal fountain

Rogier:


Laboravi in gemitu meo

Tomkins:


Adieu, ye city-prisoning towers!

Weelkes:


As Vesta was from Latmos hill descending

Wilbye:


Oft have I vow’d

Ye that do live in pleasures

Draw on, sweet night