in fields abroad - william byrd lyrics
in fields abroad, wher trumpets shrill do sound
wher glaves & shields, do give & take the knocks
wher bodies dead, doe overspred the ground:
& friends to foes, are common butchers blocks
a gallant shot well managing his peece
in my conceit deserves a golden fleece
amid the seas, a gallant ship set out
where in nor men nor yet munitions lacks
in greatest winds that spareth not a clout
but cuts the waves in spight of wethers wracks
would force a swain that comes of cowards kinde
to change him selfe and be of n0ble minde
who makes his seat a stately stamping stead
whose neighes & playes are princely to behold
whose courage stout, whose eyes are fiery red
whose joints well knit, whose harnes all of gold
doth well deserve to be no meaner thing
then percian knight whose horse made him a king
by that beside where sits a gallant dame
who casteth of her brave and rich attire
whose petecote sets forth as faire a frame
as mortall men or gods can well desire
who sits and sees her petecote unlast
i say no more, the rest are all disgrast
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