Luyện nghe bài hát Highwayman

The was a torrent of darkness
the gusty trees
The moon was a galleon
Tossed cloudy seas
And the was a ribbon of moonlight
Over the moor
And the highwayman came riding, riding,
Yes, the came riding
Up to the old inn
Over the cobbles he
And in the darkened yard
And he with his whip at the window
But all was locked and
So he whistled a tune to the
And who should be there
But the black eyed daughter
Bess the daughter
Plaiting a red love knot
Into her black hair
One kiss, my sweetheart
For I'm a prize tonight
But I shall be back with the gold
the morning light
Yet if they me sharply
me through the day
Oh, then for me by moonlight
for me by moonlight
And I'll come to by moonlight
Though Hell bar the way
He did not come at the
No, he did not come at the
And out of the tawny
before the rise of the
When the was a gypsy's ribbon
Looping the moor
Oh a redcoat troop came marching, marching,
King George's men marching
Up to the old inn
And bound the landlord's daughter
with a sniggering jest
And they the musket beside her
the barrel beneath her breast
Now keep good watch and they her
She the dead man say
"Oh for me by moonlight
for me by moonlight
And come to thee by moonlight
Though should bar the way"
Look for me by
Hoof ringing clear
for me by moonlight
Were they deaf that they did not
For he rode on the gypsy
She breathed one breath
Then her finger moved in the
Her shattered the moonlight
And it her breast in the moonlight
And him with her death
Oh he turned; he on to the west
He did not who stood
Out with her hair a flowing down
Drenched with her own red
Oh not 'til the had he heard it
And his face grew gray to
How Bess the landlord's
The black eyed daughter
Had for her love in the moonlight
And in the darkness there
he spurred like a madman
Shrieking a to the sky
the white road smoking behind him
And his rapier high
Blood red were his in the golden noon
Wine red his velvet
When they shot him down on the
Down a dog on the highway
And he lay in his on the highway
With a bunch of at his throat
And on a winter's night they say
the wind is in the trees
When the moon is a galleon
upon cloudy seas
When the is a ribbon of moonlight
the purple moor
Oh the highwayman comes riding, riding,
Yes the comes riding
Up to the old inn door.