Luyện nghe bài hát Bitter Withy

BITTER
As it fell out on a high
Small rain from the sky did
Sweet Jesus of his own mother dear
Whether he might play at
To play, to play, dear she did say
time that you have been gone
And don't let me hear about you
At night when you do come
Now our Savior down into yonder town
As far as the holy, well
And there he met three of the finest
That ever any tongue tell
Good morn, morn, good morn, said they
morning, then said he, said he
Now which of you three fine
Will play at with me
Oh we are and ladies sons
Born in a hall
And you are but a maiden's
Born in an stall
Now our savior built a bridge the beams of the sun
and the water ran he, ran he
And the jolly children followed after him
And drowned were all three
The ball and the downward ball
Their mothers did wail and squall
Saying, mild, fetch home your child
For are drownded all
Then Mary mild a handful of withies
And laid our savior across her knee
And that handful of withy twigs
She gave him three
Oh be to the bitter withy
has caused me to smart, to smart
And shall be the very first tree
That shall right at the heart
recorded by MaColl & English & Scottish Ballads; Roberts &
Barrand - Nowell Sing We
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