Luyện nghe bài hát Highwayman

The was a torrent of darkness
Among the trees
The moon was a galleon
Tossed cloudy seas
And the road was a ribbon of
Over the moor
And the highwayman riding, riding, riding
Yes, the highwayman riding
Up to the old inn
the cobbles he clattered
And clashed in the 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 landlord's black eyed
Bess the daughter
Plaiting a dark red love
her long black hair
One kiss, my bonny
For I'm after a tonight
But I be back with the yellow gold
the morning light
Yet if press me sharply
me through the day
Oh, look for me by moonlight
for me by moonlight
And I'll come to by moonlight
Though should bar the way
He did not come at the
No, he did not come at the
And out of the sunset
before the of the moon
the road was a gypsy's ribbon
Looping the purple
Oh a redcoat came marching, marching, marching
George's men came marching
Up to the old inn
And they bound the daughter
with many a sniggering
And they bound the beside her
With the barrel beneath her
Now keep good watch and kissed her
She heard the man say
"Oh for me by moonlight
for me by moonlight
And come to thee by moonlight
Though Hell bar the way"
for me by moonlight
Hoof beats ringing
Watch for me by
Were they deaf they did not hear
For he on the gypsy highway
She breathed one breath
Then her moved in the moonlight
Her shattered the moonlight
And it her breast in the moonlight
And him with her death
Oh he turned; he spurred on to the
He did not know who
Out with her black hair a down
Drenched her own red blood
Oh not 'til the dawn had he it
And his face grew gray to
How Bess the landlord's
The black eyed daughter
Had watched for her in the moonlight
And died in the darkness
Back he spurred like a
a curse to the sky
With the road smoking behind him
And his rapier high
Blood red his spurs in the golden noon
Wine red his velvet
When they shot him down on the
Down like a dog on the
And he lay in his blood on the
With a of lace at his throat
And still on a night they say
the wind is in the trees
When the is a ghostly galleon
upon cloudy seas
When the road is a of moonlight
Over the moor
Oh the highwayman comes riding, riding,
Yes the highwayman comes
Up to the old inn door.