From Mignarda's 2007 release, "My Lord of Oxenford's Maske". MP3s available from iTunes, Naxos' ClassicsOnline; CDs available from Amazon, CD Baby, and Mignarda.com. A performance edition of the music can be found in Shakespeare's Lute Book, available from Mignarda Editions at Mignarda.com.
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The Willow Song, as quoted in Shakespeare's "Othello", is famous as Desdemona's lament. The willow, a symbol of forsaken love, was part of the imagery associated with Elizabethan melancholy, and the text to the song even describes in detail the typical posture of a melancholy lover.
Mignarda's performance is based on the version found in the British Library (additional manuscript 15117), and is unique in that the triple-time rhythm is gently pulsed and insistently regular, rather than the free-form rhythmic interpretation typical to performances of this song.
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Text from British Library additional manuscript 15117:
The poor soul sat sighing by a sycamore tree,
Sing willow, willow, willow;
With his hand in his bosom and his head upon his knee,
O willow, willow, willow, willow;
O willow, willow, willow, willow
Shall be my garland.
Sing all a green willow;
Willow, willow willow,
Ay me, the green willow
Must be my garland.
He sighed in his singing, and made a great moan,
Sing willow, willow, willow;
I am dead to all pleasure, my true love she is gone,
O willow, willow, willow, willow;
O willow, willow, willow, willow
Shall be my garland.
The fresh streams ran by him and murmured his moans,
Sing willow, willow, willow;
His salt tears fell from him, and softened the stones,
O willow, willow, willow, willow;
O willow, willow, willow, willow
Shall be my garland.
Come all you forsaken and mourn you with me,
Sing willow, willow, willow;
Who speaks of a false love, mine’s falser yet than she,
O willow, willow, willow, willow;
O willow, willow, willow, willow
Shall be my garland.
Let love no more boast in her palace nor bower,
Sing willow, willow, willow;
It buds, but it blasteth ere it be a flower,
O willow, willow, willow, willow;
O willow, willow, willow, willow
Shall be my garland.
Though fair and more false, I die with thy wound,
Sing willow, willow, willow;
Thou hast lost the truest lover that goes upon the ground,
O willow, willow, willow, willow;
O willow, willow, willow, willow
Shall be my garland.
Let nobody chide her, her scorns I approve,
Sing willow, willow, willow;
She was born to be false, and I to die for her love,
O willow, willow, willow, willow;
O willow, willow, willow, willow
Shall be my garland.
Take this for my farewell and latest adieu,
Sing willow, willow, willow;
Write this on my tomb, that in love I was true,
O willow, willow, willow, willow;
O willow, willow, willow, willow
Shall be my garland.
While we perform the song from the original version with its pragmatic spelling, the modernized text above is modified from that found in F. W. Sternfeld, Music in Shakespearean Tragedy, Routledge and Kegan Paul, London, 1963, pp. 32-33.