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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: Adieu to the Pleasures and Follies of Love (Review by Michael Ullman)

lute 

HART: Adieu to the Pleasures and Follies of Love (Review by Michael Ullman)

theorbo 

HART: Adieu to the pleasures and follies of love (Review by Tom Moore)

archlute 

HART: Adieu to the pleasures and follies of love (Review by Tom Moore)

lute 

HART: 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: 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: 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: 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: 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: 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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