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Morley, T.: With my love my life was nestled, Come sorrow come, It was a lover and his lass. Anonimo: The willow song. Rosseter, P.: When Laura smiles, Though far from joy, If she forsake me. Dowland, J.: If my complaints, Fine knacks for ladies, Weepe you no more, White as lilies. Pilkington, F.: Rest sweet nimphs, Ay me she frowns. Coprario, J.: Oft thou hast. Hume, T.: Tobacco is like love. Jones, R.: Love is a bable, Sweet if you like. Campian, T.: Now wimter nights enlarge, What harvest half so sweet is, Turne backe you wanton flyer