Luyện nghe bài hát John Barleycorn

There were three men out of the west
fortunes for to try
And these men made a solemn vow
John Barleycorn die

They've plowed, sown, they've harrowed him in
clods upon his head
And these men made a solemn vow
Barleycorn was dead

They've let him lie for a long time
'Til the rains from did fall
And little Sir sprung up his head
And so them all

They've let him till Midsummer's Day
he looked both pale and wan
And little Sir John's grown a long beard
And so a man

They've men with their scythes so sharp
To cut him off at the
They've him and tied him by the way
Serving him barbarously

hired men with their sharp pitchforks
Who've pricked him to the
And the loader, he has served him worse than
For bound him to the cart

They've wheeled him and around a field
'Til they onto a pond
And they made a solemn oath
On John Barleycorn

They've hired men with their crab sticks
To cut him skin bone
And the miller, he has served him worse than
For ground him between two stones

And Sir John and the nut brown bowl
And his in the glass
And little Sir John and the nut bowl
Proved the strongest man at

The he can't hunt the fox
Nor so to blow his horn
And the tinker he mend kettle nor pots
Without a barleycorn