- Steven RICKARDS Contre-ténor
- Dorothy LINELL Luth
- Thomas CAMPION: Come let us sound with melodie the praises, à 1 voix
- Thomas CAMPION: Tune thy musicke to thy hart, à 4 voix
- Thomas CAMPION: Come you pretty false-ey'd wanton, à 3 voix
- Thomas CAMPION: There is none, O none but you, à 3 voix
- Thomas CAMPION: Sweet exclude me not nor be divided, à 3 voix
- Thomas CAMPION: I care not for these ladies, à 1 voix
- Thomas CAMPION: Though you are yoong and I am olde, à 1 voix
- Thomas CAMPION: Fire, fire, fire, fire loe I burne, à 1 voix
- Philip ROSSETER: What then is love but mourning?
- Thomas CAMPION: Shall I come sweet love to thee
- Thomas CAMPION: Beauty since you so much desire, à 1 voix
- Thomas CAMPION: What is it that all men possesse, among themselves conversing?, à 1 voix
- Thomas CAMPION: Sypres curten of the night is spread, à 1 voix (The)
- Thomas CAMPION: Jacke and Jone they thinke no ill, à 3 voix
- Thomas CAMPION: It fell on a sommers daie, à 1 voix
- Thomas CAMPION: When to her lute Corrina sings, à 1 voix
- Thomas CAMPION: My sweetest Lesbia, let us live and love, à 1 voix
- Thomas CAMPION: Her rosie cheekes, her ever smiling eyes, à 3 voix
- Thomas CAMPION: Faire if you expect admiring, à 1 voix
- Thomas CAMPION: There is a garden in her face, à 1 voix
- Thomas CAMPION: Author of light, revive my dying spright, à 4 voix
- Thomas CAMPION: Never weather-beaten saile more willing bent to shore, à 4 voix
- Thomas CAMPION: Most sweet and pleasing are thy waes O God, à 4 voix
- Thomas CAMPION: To musicke bent is my retyred minde, à 4 voix
- Thomas CAMPION: Thou joy'st fond boy, to be by many loved, à 1 voix
- Thomas CAMPION: Turne all thy thoughts to eyes, à 1 voix
- Thomas CAMPION: Vayle love mine eyes, O hide from me, à 1 voix
- ANONYME: Miserere my maker
-
1
Come let us sound with melody
-
2
Tune thy musicke to thy hart
-
3
Come you pretty false-ey'd wanton
-
4
There is none, O none but you
-
5
Sweet exclude mee not
-
6
I care not for these Ladies
-
7
Though you are yoong and I am olde
-
8
Fire, fire, fire, fire loe here I burne
-
9
What then is love but mourning?
-
10
Shall I come, sweet love, to thee?
-
11
Beauty, since you so much desire
-
12
What is it that all men possesse, among themselves conversing?
-
13
The sypres curten of the night is spread
-
14
Jacke and Jone they think no ill
-
15
It fell on a sommers daie
-
16
When to her lute Corinna sings
-
17
My sweetest Lesbia, let us live and love
-
18
Her rosie cheekes, her ever smiling eyes
-
19
Faire, if you expect admiring
-
20
There is a garden in her face
-
21
Author of light, revive my dying spright
-
22
Bookes of Ayres, Book 2: Never Weather-beaten Saile More Willing Bent to Shore
-
23
Most sweet and pleasing are thy wayes o God
-
24
To musicke bent is my retyred minde
-
25
Thou joy'st fond boy, to be by many loved
-
26
Turne all thy thoughts to eyes
-
27
Vayle love mine eyes, O hide from me
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