Luyện nghe bài hát Fete Champetre

FETE
(Robert Burns)
O, wha will to Stephen's House,
To do our errands there,
O, wha to Saint Stephen's House
O, th' lads of Ayr, man?
Or ye send a man-o-law?
Or will ye a sodger?
Or him wha led Scotland a'
The Ursa-Major?
Come, will ye court a lord,
Or buy a o' lairds, man?
For Worth and Honour their word.
Their shall be Glencaird's, man.
Ane gies coin, ane gies them wine,
Anither gies clatter;
Anbank, wha the ladies' taste,
He gies a Champetre.
Love and Beauty heard the news
The gay amang, man,
Where, gathering flowers, and bowers,
They heard the sang, man:
A vow, they it with a kiss,
Sir to fetter:
As their alone, the bliss,
To hold a Champetre.
mounted Mirth on gleesome wing,
O'er hill and she flew, man;
Ilk wimpling burn, ilk spring,
Ilk glen and she knew, man
She every social sprite,
That by wood or water,
On th' banks of Ayr to meet,
And keep Fete Champetre.
Cauld Boreas, wi his crew
Were bound to stakes kye, man;
And ear, o silver fu,
Clamb up the sky, man:
Reflected dwell in the streams,
Or down the current
The western breeze steals through the
To this Fete Champetre.
How many a robe sae floats,
sparkling jewels glance, man,
To enchanting notes,
As the mazy dance, man!
The wood, the winding flood,
Like did glitter,
When angels met at yett
To hold Fete Champetre.
When came there, to mix
And his ether-stane, man,
He circled round the ground,
But found he nane, man:
He for shame, he quat his name,
it, every letter,
Wi humble prayer to join and
This festive Champetre.
(313)

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