Luyện nghe bài hát Bitter Withy

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