Difference between revisions of "The Cryer's Song of Cheape-Side (Thomas Ravenscroft)"

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==Original text and translations==
 
==Original text and translations==
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{{Text|English}}
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<poem>
 +
O yes, if anyone at fifteen
 +
hath taken up and found a pretty thing
 +
that hath her maiden head unbound,
 +
if any gallant have with Catertray,
 +
play’d the wise Aker,
 +
and made all away,
 +
let him come to the Crier,
 +
there will be laid a thousand pound to ten,
 +
that none (of these) will ere be had again.
 +
 
 +
O yes, if note or line,
 +
or word be here let fall,
 +
that gives the taste of Gall,
 +
let him come to the Crier,
 +
I will lay my lips to a fat shroving Hen,
 +
that none of these will be had again.
 +
 
 +
For this I say and likewise I protest,
 +
no arrows here are shot at any breast,
 +
but all are welcome to my music feast:
 +
</poem>
  
 
{{DEFAULTSORT:Cryer's Song of Cheape-Side, The (Thomas Ravencroft)}}
 
{{DEFAULTSORT:Cryer's Song of Cheape-Side, The (Thomas Ravencroft)}}
 
[[Category:Sheet music]]
 
[[Category:Sheet music]]
 
[[Category:Renaissance music]]
 
[[Category:Renaissance music]]

Revision as of 11:11, 15 March 2009

Music files

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  • CPDL #364: Icon_pdf.gif
Editor: Gordon J. Callon (submitted 1999-05-20).   Score information: Letter, 7 pages, 476 kB   Copyright: Personal
Edition notes:

General Information

Title: The Cryer's Song of Cheape-Side
Composer: Thomas Ravenscroft

Number of voices: 4vv   Voicing: SATB
Genre: SecularPartsong

Language: English
Instruments: Viol consort
Published: #14 Melismata

Description:

External websites:

Original text and translations

English.png English text

O yes, if anyone at fifteen
hath taken up and found a pretty thing
that hath her maiden head unbound,
if any gallant have with Catertray,
play’d the wise Aker,
and made all away,
let him come to the Crier,
there will be laid a thousand pound to ten,
that none (of these) will ere be had again.

O yes, if note or line,
or word be here let fall,
that gives the taste of Gall,
let him come to the Crier,
I will lay my lips to a fat shroving Hen,
that none of these will be had again.

For this I say and likewise I protest,
no arrows here are shot at any breast,
but all are welcome to my music feast: