Luyện nghe bài hát Highwayman

The wind was a torrent of
Among the trees
The was a ghostly galleon
upon cloudy seas
And the road was a of moonlight
Over the purple
And the highwayman riding, riding, riding
Yes, the came riding
Up to the old inn
Over the cobbles he
And clashed in the yard
And he with his whip at the window
But all was and barred
So he whistled a to the window
And who should be there
But the black eyed daughter
Bess the daughter
a dark red love knot
Into her long hair
One kiss, my bonny
For I'm after a prize
But I shall be back the yellow gold
Before the light
Yet if they me sharply
Harry me the day
Oh, look for me by moonlight
Watch for me by
And I'll to thee by moonlight
Hell 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
When the road was a gypsy's
Looping the purple
Oh a redcoat troop came marching, marching,
King George's men came
Up to the old inn
And they bound the landlord's
with many a jest
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 come to by moonlight
Though Hell bar the way"
Look for me by
Hoof beats clear
Watch for me by
Were they deaf that they did not
For he on the gypsy highway
She breathed one breath
Then her moved in the moonlight
Her musket shattered the
And it shattered her in the moonlight
And warned him with her
Oh he turned; he spurred on to the
He did not know who
Out her black hair a flowing down
Drenched with her own red
Oh not the dawn had he heard it
And his face grew gray to
How Bess the daughter
The landlord's eyed daughter
Had watched for her in the moonlight
And died in the darkness
Back he spurred like a
Shrieking a to the sky
With the white road behind him
And his rapier high
Blood red were his spurs in the golden
Wine red his velvet
they shot him down 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 winter's night say
When the wind is in the
When the moon is a galleon
Tossed upon cloudy
When the road is a ribbon of
the purple moor
Oh the highwayman comes riding, riding,
Yes the highwayman riding
Up to the old inn door.