Giles Farnaby
Giles Farnaby
Giles Farnaby
Giles Farnaby
Giles Farnaby
Giles Farnaby
Giles Farnaby
Giles Farnaby
Giles Farnaby
Giles Farnaby
Giles Farnaby
Giles Farnaby
Giles Farnaby
Giles Farnaby
Giles Farnaby
Giles Farnaby
Giles Farnaby
Giles Farnaby
Giles Farnaby
Giles Farnaby
Giles Farnaby
Ay me, poor heart!
Since Love hath played his part
My senses all are lost
My mind eke tossed
Like waves that swell
Sweet god of Love
Thou dost excel!
Thy passions move
My mind to prove
That turtle dove
She flies, she flies;
My love she tries
Help, gods that sit on high!
O send me remedy
Ay me, poor heart! was written by Giles Farnaby.