Luyện nghe bài hát Bitter Withy

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