Now Each Flowery Bank of May – Orlando Gibbons

When your soul is haunted from the inside and the outside with love and a shower of flower petals –  “Each thing tasteth of love’s bliss” and doesn’t it just in this delicious madrigal from The First Set of Madrigals and Motets of 1612. “Whose love is life, whose hate is death.”

Now each flowery bank of May,
Woos the streams that glide away,
Mountains fanned by a sweet gale,
Loves the humble-looking dale,
Winds the loved leaves do kiss,
Each thing tasteth of love’s bliss.
Only I, though blest I be
To be loved by destiny,
Love confessed by her sweet breath,
Whose love is life, whose hate is death.