“In truth I must confess, they are like young birds feared out of the nest before they be well feathered, and find no place so fit to light on as on the branches of your favour: where (such is your love to me and music) I hope they will be so shrouded in the leaves of your good liking, that you will give leave neither to any ravenous kite nor crafty fowler (I mean neither to any open-mouthed Momus nor more sly detractor) to devour, or harm them, that cannot succour nor shift for themselves.”
About Thomas Bateson
c. 1575–March 1630
In the golden twilight of the English Renaissance, when madrigals flourished in the courts and cathedrals of England and Ireland, few composers demonstrated such exquisite taste in wedding poetry to music as Thomas Bateson. Born around 1575 in the rolling countryside of Cheshire, this Anglo-Irish composer would become…