Luyện nghe bài hát Highwayman

The wind was a torrent of
Among the gusty
The moon was a 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
the cobbles he clattered
And in the darkened yard
And he with his whip at the window
But all was and barred
So he whistled a tune to the
And who should be there
But the black eyed daughter
Bess the landlord's
Plaiting a dark red knot
Into her black hair
One kiss, my bonny
For I'm after a tonight
But I be back with the yellow gold
Before the light
Yet if press me sharply
me through the day
Oh, look for me by moonlight
for me by moonlight
And come to thee by moonlight
Though should bar the way
He did not come at the
No, he did not at the noon
And out of the tawny
before the of the moon
the road 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 they bound the landlord's
with many a sniggering
And they the musket beside her
the barrel beneath her breast
Now keep good watch and kissed her
She heard the man say
"Oh for me by moonlight
Watch for me by
And I'll to thee by moonlight
Though should bar the way"
Look for me by
Hoof beats ringing
for me by moonlight
Were they deaf that they did not
For he on the gypsy highway
She breathed one final
her finger moved in the moonlight
Her shattered the moonlight
And it shattered her in the moonlight
And him with her death
Oh he turned; he on to the west
He did not who stood
Out with her black hair a down
Drenched her own red blood
Oh not the dawn had he heard it
And his face grew gray to
How the landlord's daughter
The black eyed daughter
Had watched for her in the moonlight
And in the darkness there
Back he spurred like a
Shrieking a to the sky
With the white smoking behind him
And his brandished high
Blood red were his spurs in the golden
Wine red his coat
When they him down on the highway
Down like a dog on the
And he lay in his on the highway
With a of lace at his throat
And still on a winter's night say
When the is in the trees
When the moon is a ghostly
Tossed upon cloudy
When the road is a ribbon of
Over the purple
Oh the highwayman riding, riding, riding
Yes the highwayman comes
Up to the old inn door.