Luyện nghe bài hát Ballad Of The Harp Weaver

Son said my when I was knee high
You need of clothes to you and not a rag have I
There's nothing in the house to a boy's britches
Nor shears to cut a cloth with nor thread to take
There's nothing in the house but a end of rye
And the harp with a with the head nobody will by and she began to cry
That was in the early fall and when came the fall
Son she said the sight of you your mother's blood crawl
Little shoulder blades stickin' through your clothes
And where you get a jacket God above knows
It's lucky for me lad your in the ground
And can't see the way I let his son go around and she a queer sound
was in the late fall when the winter came
I'd not a of bridges nor a shirt to my name
I couldn't go to or out of doors to play
And all the little boys passed our way
Son said my mother come climb my lap
And I'll your little knees while you take a nap
And oh but we were silly for half an hour or
Me with my long legs draggin' on the
I rocked rocked to a mother goose rhyme
Oh but we were happy for half an time
But was I a great boy and what would folks say
To hear my mother singin' me to all day in such a daft way
Men say the winter was bad that year fuel was scarce and was dear
A wind with a head howled about our door
And we burned up the chairs and sat the floor
All was left us was a chair we couldn't break
And the harp with the woman's head nobody take for song or pity sake
The before Christmas I cried with the cold
I cried myself to sleep a two year old
And in the deep night I my mother rise
And stare down upon me with love in her
I saw my mother sitting on the one chair
A light falling on her face from I couldn't where
Looking and not a day older
And the harp with the woman's leaned against her shoulder
Her fingers moving in the thin tall strings
Were weave weave weaving wonderful
Many bright threads from where I see
running through the harp strings rapidly
And gold threads through my mother's hands
I saw the web grow and the pattern
She wove a child's and when it was done
She laid it on the and wove another one
She wove a red cloak so to see
made it for a king's son I said and not for me but I knew it was for me
She wove a of bridges and quicker than that
She a pair of boots a little cocked hat
She a pair of mittens she wove a little blouse
She wove all night in the still cold
She as she worked and the harp strings spoke
But her voice never faltered and the never broke
But when I awoke there sat my
With the harp against her shoulder lookin' nineteen and not a day
A smile her lips and a light about her head
And her in the harp strings frozen dead
And up beside her toppling to the skies
Were the clothes of a king's son just my