A shepherd in a shade his plaining made (John Dowland)
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- CPDL #16806: NoteWorthy Composer
- Editor: Brian Russell (submitted 2008-05-06). Score information: A4, 3 pages, 27 kB Copyright: CPDL
- Edition notes:
- CPDL #11874: Finale 2006
- Editor: Daniel Harmer (submitted 2006-06-13). Score information: Letter, 4 pages, 89 kB Copyright: CPDL
- Edition notes:
- Editor: Eva Toller (submitted 2002-08-23). Score information: A4, 6 pages, 82 kB Copyright: Personal
- Edition notes: Arranged for TTBB. MIDI files available for each part.
- Editor: Laura Conrad (submitted 2000-06-21). Score information: A4, 5 pages, 90 kB Copyright: GnuGPL
- Edition notes: in partbook format
- Editor: Frank Nordberg (submitted 1999-10-14). Score information: A4, 5 pages, 144 kB Copyright: CPDL
- Edition notes:
General Information
Title: A Sheperd in a shade his plaining made
Composer: John Dowland
Number of voices: 4vv Voicing: SATB
or TTBB
Genre: Secular, Madrigal
Language: English
Instruments: a cappella
Published: 1600
Description: No. XVII from Second Book of Songs or Ayres (1600)
External websites:
Original text and translations
English text
- A shepherd in a shade,
- his plaining made,
- of love and lovers wrong,
- Unto the fairest lasse,
- that trode on grasse,
- and thus began his song.
Refrain
- Restore, restore my hart againe,
- Which love by thy sweet looks hath slaine,
- Least that inforst by your distaine,
- I sing, fie fie on love,
- it is a foolish thing
- Since love and fortune will,
- I honour still,
- your faire and lovely eye,
- What conquest will it be,
- Sweet nymph, for thee,
- If I for sorrow dye.
Refrain
- Restore, restore my hart againe,
- Which love by thy sweet looks hath slaine,
- Least that inforst by your distaine,
- I sing, fie fie on love,
- it is a foolish thing
- My hart where have you laid
- O cruell maide,
- To kill when you might save,
- Why have yee cast it forth
- as nothing worth,
- Without a tombe or grave.
Refrain
- O let it bee intombed and lye,
- In your sweet minde and memorie,
- Least I resound on every warbling string,
- Fye fye on love
- that is a foolish thing.