Luyện nghe bài hát Chylde Owlet

CHYLDE
Lady sits in her bower
A her silken seam
A sark for Chylde Owlet
As he oot and in
His face was fair, was his hair
ca'd him to come nigh
Oh ye maun cuckold Lord
For a' his and kye
Oh lady, hold tongue for shame
That such a thing e'er be
How I cuckold Lord Ronald
And me his son
she's ta'en oot a wee penknife
That lay her bed
And pricked below her breist
Which made her body
Lord Ronald's into her bower
Whaur she did her mane
Oh, wha's is a' blood, he says
That sparks on hearth stane?
Young Chylde Owlet, sister's son
Is new frae my bower
Gin I hadnae been a good
I'd hae Chylde Owlet's whore
he has ta'en young Chylde Owlet
Cast him in strang
And a his men a held
To work Chylde Owlet
Some said Chylde Owlet should be
Some that he should burn
Some they would hae Chylde Owlet
wild horses torn
There are in my stable stand
Can rin richt
It's ye maun tae my stable
And oot four far me
They've put a horse to foot
and ain tae ilka
And sent them oot Elkin Moor
As fast as they could
There grass nor heather knowe
Nor broom nor whin
But drappit wi' Chylde blood
And o' his skin
There wasnae on Elkin Moor
Nor yet a piece o'
But drappit wi' Chylde blood
And o' his flesh
Child
recorded by Peggy Seeger and Ewan on Blood & Roses
CHDOWLET
SF
===DOCUMENT