Luyện nghe bài hát Prince Heathen

Prince
Young sat in a tower high
And she's as as a milk white swan
When she saw a on the plain
Come her and the sun.
"Oh, mother, is it a
Or a flight of in the air,
Or a black with a silver flag
And a ragged man them there?"
"Oh, daughter, go run in your little
And bid adieu to flowers so gay.
For comes Prince Heathen's men
And I fear they're to take you away."
In there come Heathen then, saying
"Good day to you.
And will l find that sweet little bride
With her as soft as morning dew?"
Young Margaret her bower door
But his men soon the hinges spring
And in there come Prince then
And give to her a gay ring.
at him the ring she flung
She "Of you I have no fear.
I'll you wolf-hound seven times
Rather call you husband dear."
He then, by her yellow hair,
He'd her weep and call him dear.
He's taken her in his two arms,
And her on the cold stone floor.
And he set her free again,
Her from her he's ta'en:
"Ha ha, maid, will you weep now?"
"You dog, nor yet for you."
He's cast her down in a of stone
forty locks did hang thereto.
"Ha ha, bonny maid, you weep now?"
"You dog, nor yet for you."
"Come, my lady of the salt, salt meat,
And vinegar for her brew,
"Ha ha, bonny maid, will you now?"
"You dog, nor yet for you."
Prince down from the mountains came
he'd been hunting with his armoured men.
He came unto fair young maid
All in the prison she is laid.
"A drink, a drink, Heathen" she said.
"Even if it's from the muddy pool."
"Never a drink! Will you now?"
"You dog, nor yet for thee."
taken her by her yellow hair,
And tied it to his tail.
He's her through the bushes and briars
That grow so thick all on the
"Ride slower, slower, Heathen" she says
"Already the blood has me shoe".
"Ha ha, bonny maid, will you now?"
"You dog, nor yet for you."
He stirrups and on he flew,
And her body he's harrowed the road.
Her skirt in tatters tore,
Her silken was spattered with blood.
"Ride slower, slower, Heathen," she says
"For the it sorely hurts my knee".
"Ha ha, bonny maid, you weep now?"
"You dog, nor yet for thee."
He stirrups and on he flew.
He's her through the briar and thorns.
Young Margaret a pitiful cry,
And there she's had her babe born.
"Oh how can I wrap me little babe
Seeing as I've nothing to him in?"
He give to her his blanket
"That'll him from cheek to chin".
As she the blanket from his hand
down her cheeks they trickling run.
"Ha ha, bonny maid, will you now?".
"You dog, nor yet for you."
"I'm weeping for me own little
blanket's too rough to roll him in,
and alas, the day I rue
That ever I met rogues as you!"
He "Go wash my baby in the milk,
And dress my in the silk;
When hearts are breaking, hands bow,
And well I love my now".
She says "When violets on the window-pane
And roses grow on the floor,
then that I'll return again
And be your forevermore".
#104
A. L. Lloyd refurbished ancient Child ballad. The
chilling tension of the stems from the juxtaposition be-
stark physical brutality and psychological complexity.
Recorded by Armstrong
PRINHEAT
SF
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