SINCE FIRST I SAW YOUR FACE
(Thomas Ford)
Since first I saw your face
I resolv'd to honour and reknown ye,
If now I be disdained
I wish my heart had never known ye.
What! I that lov'd and you that lik'd
Shall be begin to wrangle?
No, no, no, my heart is fast
And cannot disentangle.
If I admire or praise you too much
That fault you may forgive me.
Or if my hands had stray'd a touch
Then justly might you leave me.
I ask'd you leave, you bade me love
Is't now a time to chide me?
No, no, no, I'll love you still
What fortune e'er betide me.
The sun, whose beams most glorious are
Rejecteth no beholder;
And your sweet beauty, past compare,
Made my poor eyes the bolder.
Where beauty moves and wit delights
And signs of kindness find me
There, oh there, where'er I go
I'll leave my heart behind me.
From Songs From Shakespeare's Plays, Kines
Published in Music of Sundrie Kindes, Ford, 1607
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SINCE FIRST I SAW YOUR FACE
(Thomas Ford)
Since first I saw your face
I resolv'd to honour and reknown ye,
If now I be disdained
I wish my heart had never known ye.
What! I that lov'd and you that lik'd
Shall be begin to wrangle?
No, no, no, my heart is fast
And cannot disentangle.
If I admire or praise you too much
That fault you may forgive me.
Or if my hands had stray'd a touch
Then justly might you leave me.
I ask'd you leave, you bade me love
Is't now a time to chide me?
No, no, no, I'll love you still
What fortune e'er betide me.
The sun, whose beams most glorious are
Rejecteth no beholder;
And your sweet beauty, past compare,
Made my poor eyes the bolder.
Where beauty moves and wit delights
And signs of kindness find me
There, oh there, where'er I go
I'll leave my heart behind me.
From Songs From Shakespeare's Plays, Kines
Published in Music of Sundrie Kindes, Ford, 1607
(Thomas Ford)
Since first I saw your face
I resolv'd to honour and reknown ye,
If now I be disdained
I wish my heart had never known ye.
What! I that lov'd and you that lik'd
Shall be begin to wrangle?
No, no, no, my heart is fast
And cannot disentangle.
If I admire or praise you too much
That fault you may forgive me.
Or if my hands had stray'd a touch
Then justly might you leave me.
I ask'd you leave, you bade me love
Is't now a time to chide me?
No, no, no, I'll love you still
What fortune e'er betide me.
The sun, whose beams most glorious are
Rejecteth no beholder;
And your sweet beauty, past compare,
Made my poor eyes the bolder.
Where beauty moves and wit delights
And signs of kindness find me
There, oh there, where'er I go
I'll leave my heart behind me.
From Songs From Shakespeare's Plays, Kines
Published in Music of Sundrie Kindes, Ford, 1607