Luyện nghe bài hát John Barleycorn

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