Now I see thy looks were feigned (Thomas Ford)

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• (Posted 2012-04-25)  CPDL #26018:         

Editor: James Gibb (submitted 2012-04-25).   Score information: A4, 2 pages, 18 kB   Copyright: CPDL

Edition notes: Reformatting of #14914, with corrections.

• (Posted 2007-09-10)  CPDL #14914:         

Editor: Brian Russell (submitted 2007-09-10).   Score information: A4, 2 pages, 21 kB   Copyright: CPDL

Edition notes: NoteWorthy Composer file may be viewed and printed with NoteWorthy Composer Viewer.

Possible error(s) identified. See the discussion page for full description.

• (Posted 2000-10-08)  CPDL #01462:        (Finale 1998)

Editor: Suzi Nassen Stefl (submitted 2000-10-08).   Score information: Letter, 2 pages, 44 kB   Copyright: CPDL

Edition notes:

General Information

Title: Now I see thy looks were feigned
Composer: Thomas Ford

Number of voices: 4vv   Voicing: SATB
Genre: Secular, Madrigal

Language: English
Instruments: A cappella

First published: 1607 in Musicke of Sundrie Kindes, no. 4
Description: 

Original text and translations

English text

Now I see thy looks were feigned,
Quickly lost and quickly gained.
Soft thy skin like wool of wethers,
Heart unconstant, light as feathers.
Tongue untrusty, subtle-sighted,
Wanton will with change delighted.

R.: Siren pleasant, foe to reason,
Cupid plague thee for thy treason.

Of thine eye I made my mirror,
From thy beauty came my error;
All thy words I counted witty,
All thy sighs I deemed pity;
Thy false tears that me aggrieved
First of all my trust deceived.
R.

Feign'd acceptance when I asked,
Lovely words with cunning masked,
Holy vows but heart unholy
Wretched man! my trust was folly.
Lily-white and pretty winking,
Solemn vows, but sorry thinking.
R.

Now I see, O seemly cruel,
Others warm them at my fuel.
Wit shall guide me in this durance
Since in love is no assurance.
Change thy pasture, take thy pleasure,
Beauty is a fading treasure.
R.

Prime youth lasts not, age will follow,
And make white those tresses yellow;
Wrinkled face for looks delightful
Shall acquaint the dame despiteful;
And when time shall date thy glory
Then too late thou wilt be sorry.
R.