Luyện nghe bài hát John Barleycorn

There were three men out of the west, their fortunes for to try
And these three men made a solemn vow, Barleycorn would die
They've ploughed, they've sown, they've harrowed, thrown clods upon his
Till three men were satisfied John Barleycorn was dead
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There's beer all in the barrel and in the glass
But little Sir John, with his nut-brown bowl, proved the man at last
They've let him lie for a long time till the rains from heaven did fall
And Sir John sprang up his head and so amazed them all
They've let him till midsummer's day and he looks both pale and wan
Then little Sir John's grown a long long and so become a man
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They've hired men with the sharp-edged scythes to cut him off at the
They've rolled him and tied him around the waist, treated him most
They've hired men the sharp-edged forks to prick him to the heart
And the has served him worse than that for he's bound him to the cart
So they've wheeled him around and the field till they've come unto a barn
And here they've kept their word concerning Barleycorn
They've hired men the crabtree sticks to split him skin from bone
And the miller has him worse than that for he's ground him between two stones
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And the he can't hunt the fox nor loudly blow his horn
And the tinker he can't his pots without John Barleycorn