A quenchless fire, a nurse of trembling fear,
A path that leads to peril and mishap,
A true retreat of sorrow and despair,
An idle boy that sleeps in Pleasure’s lap;
A deep distrust of that which certain seems,
A hope of that which Reason doubtful deems.

From Thomas Weelkes’ Ballets and Madrigals, 1598.

Farewell, my joy!

Farewell, adieu
Until our next consorting!
Sweet love, be true!
And thus we end our sporting.
Fa la la!

From John Dowland’s Second Book of Songs or Airs, 1600.

Fine knacks for ladies, cheap, choice, brave and new,

Great gifts are guiles and look for gifts again,
My trifles come as treasures from my mind;
It is a precious jewel to be plain;
Sometimes in shell the orient’st pearls we find:
Of others take a sheaf, of me a grain!
Of me a grain!

Within this pack pins, points, laces, and gloves,
And divers toys fitting a country fair,
But my heart, wherein duty serves and loves,
Turtles and twins, court’s brood, a heavenly pair—
Happy the heart that thinks of no removes!
Of no removes!

From Thomas Campion’s Third Book of Airs (circ. 1613).

Fire that must flame is with apt fuel fed,