Luyện nghe bài hát Jellon Graeme

JELLON
Jellon sat in the wood, he whistled and he sang
He called for his boy who quickly to him ran
up, hurry up, my pretty little boy, as fast as ever you can
You must run for Flower before the day is gone
The boy buckled on his yellow belt and through the woods he
Ran till he to the lady's window before the day was gone
Are you little Rosy Flower, the blood runs cold as rain
I was asleep, but now I'm awake, that that calls my name?
You go to the Silver Wood, though you never come back again
You must go to the Silver Wood to speak with Graeme
I will go to the Silver Wood though I never come back
The man I most desire to see is my love, Graeme
She had not rid about two mile, it were not more than three
Till she came to a new dug grave the white oak tree
Out and sprang Jellon Graeme from out of the woods nearby
Get down, get down, you Rosy Flower, it's here that you die
She jumped down from off her horse, then down upon her
Pity on me, dear Graeme, I'm not prepared to die
Wait until our babe is born and you can let me lie
If I should spare life, he said, until our babe is born
I know pa and all your kin would hang me in the morn
on me, dear Jellon 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 with the silver and at his feet she lay
No pity, no pity for Rosy Flower, she was a dead
But he had for his little 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
he took him to his house and set him on a nurse's knee
He growed as much in a one time as other ones do in three
Then he took him to read and and for to learn how to thrive
He learned as much in the one year as other ones do in five
But I wonder now, said little Robin, if a did me bear
Many a mother do come for the rest, but never one for me
It fell out in the summertime when was a hunting game
They stopped to rest in the Silver Wood, him and Graeme
I wonder now, little Robin, why my mammy don't come for me?
To keep me hid in the Silver Wood, I it a cruelty
But I now, says little Robin, if the truth would ever be

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

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

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

The boy chose him an arrow was both keen 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 where lies my mammy is far too good for thee
I should have torn you out of the and thrown you upon a thorn
Let the blow east and the wind blow west and left you to die

#90
recorded by Seeger and Ewan MacColl on Blood and Roses
see also BANKROSE
JELGRAEM
SF
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