Luyện nghe bài hát Highwayman

The wind was a of darkness
Among the gusty
The moon was a galleon
upon cloudy seas
And the was a ribbon of moonlight
the purple moor
And the came riding, riding, riding
Yes, the came riding
Up to the old inn
Over the cobbles he
And clashed in the yard
And he tapped his whip at the window
But all was and barred
So he whistled a tune to the
And who should be waiting
But the landlord's black daughter
the landlord's daughter
Plaiting a dark red knot
Into her long black
One kiss, my sweetheart
For I'm after a tonight
But I shall be back with the yellow
the morning light
Yet if they press me
me through the day
Oh, look for me by moonlight
for me by moonlight
And I'll come to thee by
Though should bar the way
He did not at the dawning
No, he did not come at the
And out of the sunset
before the of the moon
When the road was a ribbon
the purple moor
Oh a redcoat troop marching, marching, marching
George's men came marching
Up to the old inn
And bound the landlord's daughter
with many a sniggering
And bound 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
Watch for me by
And come to thee by moonlight
Hell should bar the way"
Look for me by
Hoof beats clear
Watch for me by
Were they deaf they did not hear
For he rode on the gypsy
She one final breath
Then her finger moved in the
Her musket the moonlight
And it shattered her breast in the
And warned him her death
Oh he turned; he on to the west
He did not who stood
Out her black hair a flowing down
with her own red blood
Oh not 'til the had he heard it
And his grew gray to hear
How Bess the landlord's
The landlord's eyed daughter
Had watched for her in the moonlight
And died in the darkness
Back he spurred a madman
a curse to the sky
With the road smoking behind him
And his brandished high
Blood red were his spurs in the noon
Wine red his coat
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 still on a night they say
When the is in the trees
the moon is a ghostly galleon
Tossed upon cloudy
the road is a ribbon of moonlight
Over the purple
Oh the highwayman riding, riding, riding
Yes the comes riding
Up to the old inn door.