Peter Warlock - The Sycamore Tree

More Peter Warlock lyrics

Peter Warlock - Adam lay ybounden
Adam lay ybounden Bounden in a bond: Four thousand winter Thought he not too long 2And all was for an apple An apple that he took As clerkès finden Written in

Peter Warlock - Rutterkin
Rutterkin is come unto our town In a cloak without coat or gown Save ragged hood to cover his crown Like a Rutterkin Hoyda, hoyda, jolly Rutterkin! Rutterkin can speak

Peter Warlock - Roister Doister
I mun be married a Sunday Whosoever shall come that way I mun be married a Sunday Roister Doister is my name A lusty brute I am the same I mun be married a Sunday

Peter Warlock - Spring
Spring, the sweet Spring, is the year's pleasant king; Then blooms each thing, then maids dance in a ring Cold doth not sting, the pretty birds do sing Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we,

Peter Warlock - Lusty Juventus
In an arbour green asleep whereas I lay The birds sang sweet in the middes of the day: I dreamed fast of mirth and play; In youth is pleasure, in youth is pleasure Methought

Peter Warlock - All the flowers of the spring
All the Flowers of the Spring Meet to perfume our burying : These have but their growing prime And man does flourish but his time Survey our progresse from our birth We are

Peter Warlock - The shrouding of the Duchess of Malfi
Hark! Now everything is still The screech-owl and the whistler shrill Call upon our dame aloud And bid her quickly don her shroud! Much you had of land and rent; Your

Peter Warlock - Ha'nacker Mill
Sally is gone that was so kindly Sally is gone from Ha'nacker Hill And the Briar grows ever since then so blindly And the sweeps have fallen from Ha'nacker Mill

Peter Warlock - The Night
Most Holy Night, that still dost keep The keys of all the doors of sleep To me when my tired eyelids close Give thou repose And let the far lament of them That chaunt

Peter Warlock - Captain Stratton's Fancy
Oh, some are fond of red wine and some are fond of white And some are all for dancing by the pale moonlight: But rum alone’s the tipple, and the heart’s delight Of the old bold mate of