Mercury falling I rise from my bed Collect my thoughts together I have to hold my head It seems that she's gone And somehow I am pinned by The Hounds
(Music by Chris Wood, Poem by Robert Southwell) As I in hoary winter's night Stood shivering in the snow, Surprised I was with sudden heat Which made
Early one morning with time to kill I borrowed Jeb's rifle and sat on the hill I saw a lone rider crossing the plain I drew a bread on him to practice
(Sting & Dominic Miller) Hush child Let your mommy sleep into the night until we rise Hush child Let me soothe the shining tears that gather in your
Sometimes in the light at the edge of the world Is the ghost of a ship with it's black sail furled And night after night she would stand on the shore
When he is King we will give him the Kings' gifts, Myrrh for its sweetness, and gold for a crown, Beautiful robes," said the young girl to Joseph, Fair
When Joseph was an old man, An old man was he, He married Virgin Mary, The Queen of Galilee, He married Virgin Mary, The Queen of Galilee. As Joseph
(John Dowland) (Instrumental)
(John Dowland) Can she excuse my wrongs with Virtue's cloak? Shall I call her good when she proves unkind? Are those clear fires which vanish into smoke
(William Blake) Sweet dreams form a shade, O'er my lovely infants head. Sweet dreams of pleasant streams, By happy silent moony beams Sweet sleep with
(Donovan) Thrown like a star in my vast sleep I open my eyes to take a peep To find that I was by the sea Gazing with tranquility 'Twas then when the
(Robert Johnson) Have you seen but a bright lily grow Before rude hands have touched it? Have you marked but the fall of snow Before the soil hath smutched
(John Dowland) [Extract from a letter to Sir Robert Cecil...]
(John Dowland) Flow my teares fall from your springs, Exilde for ever: Let me morne Where nights black bird hir sad infamy sings, There let me live forlorne
She don't like to hear me sing She don't want no diamond ring She don't want to drive my car She won't let me go that far She don't like the way I look
have tops, the ant her gall The fly her spleen, the little spark his heat; The slender hairs cast shadows, through but small, And bees have stings, although
I don't drink coffee I take tea my dear I like my toast done on the side And you can hear it in my accent when I talk I'm an Englishman in New York See