Luyện nghe bài hát John Barleycorn A Ballad

JOHN BARLEYCORN: A
(Robert Burns)
was three kings into the east,
Three kings great and high,
And hae sworn a solemn oath
Barleycorn should die.
They took a and plough'd him down,
Put upon his head,
And they hae a solemn oath
Barleycorn was dead.
But the cheerful Spring kindly on'
And show'rs began to
Barleycorn got up again,
And sore surpris'd all.
The sultry of Summer came,
And he grew thick and
His head arm'd wi pointed spears,
That no one him wrong.
The sober Autumn mild,
he grew wan and pale;
His bendin joints and head
Show'd he to fail.
His colour sicken'd and more,
He into age;
And then his began
To show deadly rage.
They've a weapon, long and sharp,
And cut him by the
They ty'd him upon a cart,
Like a for forgerie.
They him down upon his back,
And cudgell'd him sore.
They him up before the storm,
And him o'er and o'er.
They filled up a pit
water to the brim,
They in John Barleycorn-
There, let him or swim!
They laid him the floor,
To work him farther
And still, as of life appear'd,
They him to and fro.
They wasted o'er a flame
The marrow of his
But a miller him worst of all,
For he him between two atones.
And they hae his very hero blood
And drank it and round;
And still the more and they drank,
joy did more abound.
John Barleycorn was a bold,
Of noble
For if you do but his blood,
'Twill make courage rise.
'Twill make a man his woe;
heighten all his joy:
'Twill make the widow's to sing,
Tho the were in her eye.
Then let us John Barleycorn,
Each man a glass in
And may his posterity
Ne'er in old Scotland!
TUNE: Lull me beyond
BARLEY1
ARB
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