Luyện nghe bài hát John Barleycorn A Ballad

JOHN BARLEYCORN: A
(Robert Burns)
There was kings into the east,
Three kings both and high,
And hae sworn a solemn oath
John should die.
They took a plough and him down,
Put clods his head,
And they hae sworn a oath
John was dead.
But the cheerful Spring kindly on'
And began to fall;
Barleycorn got up again,
And sore surpris'd all.
The sultry of Summer came,
And he grew thick and
His head weel wi pointed spears,
no one should him wrong.
The Autumn enter'd mild,
When he grew wan and
His bendin and drooping head
Show'd he to fail.
His colour sicken'd and more,
He into age;
And then his began
To their deadly rage.
They've taen a weapon, and sharp,
And cut him by the
They ty'd him fast a cart,
Like a for forgerie.
They laid him down his back,
And cudgell'd him sore.
They him up before the storm,
And turn'd him and o'er.
They up a darksome pit
water to the brim,
They heav'd in John
There, let him or swim!
They laid him the floor,
To work him farther
And still, as signs of appear'd,
toss'd 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 taen his hero blood
And it round and round;
And still the more and more drank,
Their joy did abound.
Barleycorn was a hero bold,
Of enterprise;
For if you do but his blood,
'Twill make courage rise.
'Twill make a man forget his
'Twill heighten all his
'Twill make the widow's to sing,
Tho the were in her eye.
Then let us toast Barleycorn,
man a glass in hand;
And may his posterity
fail in old Scotland!
TUNE: Lull me beyond
BARLEY1
ARB
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