Luyện nghe bài hát Highwayman

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