Luyện nghe bài hát Jellon Graeme

JELLON
Jellon Graeme sat in the wood, he whistled and he
He called for his boy who quickly to him ran
Hurry up, up, my pretty little boy, as fast as ever you can
You run for Rosy Flower before the day is gone
The boy buckled on his yellow and through the woods he sang
Ran till he to the lady's window before the day was gone
Are you awake little Rosy Flower, the blood cold as rain
I was asleep, but now I'm awake, who's that that calls my
You must go to the Silver Wood, though you never come back
You must go to the Silver Wood to speak with Graeme
I will go to the Silver though I never come back again
The man I most desire to see is my love, Graeme
She had not rid two long mile, it were not more than three
Till she came to a new dug grave beneath the white oak
Out and sprang young Jellon from out of the woods nearby
Get down, get down, you Flower, it's here that you will die
She jumped down from off her horse, then down upon her
Pity on me, dear Jellon Graeme, I'm not to die
Wait until our babe is and then you can let me lie
If I should spare life, he said, until our babe is born
I know your pa and all your kin would hang me in the
Pity on me, dear Graeme, my pa you need not dread
I'll bear my baby in the Silver and go and beg my bread
No pity, no pity for Rosy Flower, on her knees she
He stabbed her deep the silver steel and at his feet she lay
No pity, no pity for Rosy Flower, she was a lying
But pity he had for his young son a smothering in her

He's torn the out of the womb, washed him in water and blood
Named him after a robber man, he called him Robin
Then he took him to his house and set him on a nurse's
He growed as much in a one year time as other ones do in
Then he took him to and write and for to learn how to thrive
He learned as much in the one year time as other ones do in
But I wonder now, little Robin, if a woman did me bear
Many a do come for the rest, but never one come for me
It fell out in the summertime when was a hunting game
They stopped to rest in the Silver Wood, him and Jellon
I now, said little Robin, why my mammy don't come for me?
To keep me hid in the Silver Wood, I calls it a
But I wonder now, says little Robin, if the would ever be

Why all woods is a growing green and under that tree there's

You wonder now, Jellon Graeme, Why your mammy don't come for

Lo, there's the place I laid her low, right under white oak

The little boy chose him an arrow was both and sharp
Laid his cheek all along the bow and pierced his father's
Lie there, lie there, you Jellon Graeme, the grave you will
see
The place lies my mammy dear is far too good for thee
I have torn you out of the womb and thrown you upon a thorn
Let the wind blow and the wind blow west and left you to die

#90
recorded by Peggy Seeger and Ewan MacColl on and Roses
see also SHEATHKF
JELGRAEM
SF
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