Luyện nghe bài hát Prince Heathen

Prince
Young Margaret sat in a high
And she's as pale as a white swan
When she saw a shadow on the
betwixt her and the sun.
"Oh, mother, is it a
Or a flight of in the air,
Or a black army with a flag
And a ragged man them there?"
"Oh, daughter, go run in little yard
And bid adieu to flowers so gay.
For yonder comes Heathen's men
And I fear they're to take you away."
In there come Prince Heathen then,
"Good day to you.
And will l find that sweet little bride
her hands as soft as morning dew?"
Young locked her bower door
But his men soon made the spring
And in there come Prince Heathen
And give to her a gay ring.
at him the ring she flung
She "Of you I have no fear.
call you wolf-hound seven times
Rather then you husband dear."
He swore then, by her hair,
He'd make her weep and him dear.
He's her in his two dark arms,
And laid her on the cold floor.
And when he set her again,
Her maidenhead her he's ta'en:
"Ha ha, bonny maid, you weep now?"
"You dog, nor yet for you."
He's cast her in a cabin of stone
Where locks did hang thereto.
"Ha ha, maid, will you weep now?"
"You dog, nor yet for you."
"Come, give my of the salt, salt meat,
And bitter for her brew,
"Ha ha, bonny maid, you weep now?"
"You dog, nor yet for you."
Prince Heathen down the mountains came
he'd been hunting with his armoured men.
He came unto this fair young
All in the where 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.
dragged her through the bushes and briars
That grow so all on the plain
"Ride slower, slower, Heathen" she says
"Already the blood has me shoe".
"Ha ha, maid, will you weep now?"
"You dog, nor yet for you."
He stirrups and on he flew,
And with her body harrowed the road.
Her silken skirt in tore,
Her silken blouse was with blood.
"Ride slower, slower, Prince Heathen," she
"For the it sorely hurts my knee".
"Ha ha, maid, will you weep now?"
"You dog, nor yet for thee."
He stirrups and on he flew.
dragged her through the briar and thorns.
Young Margaret gave a cry,
And there had her little 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 roll him cheek to chin".
As she the blanket from his hand
Tears down her cheeks they run.
"Ha ha, bonny maid, will you now?".
"You dog, nor yet for you."
"I'm for me own little son;
Your too rough to roll him in,
and alas, the day I rue
That ever I met rogues as you!"
He says "Go my baby in the milk,
And dress my lady in the
When are breaking, hands must bow,
And I love my lady now".
She "When violets bloom on the window-pane
And roses on the kitchen floor,
It's then that I'll again
And be your forevermore".
Child
A. L. refurbished this ancient Child ballad. The
chilling tension of the stems from the juxtaposition be-
tween stark physical and psychological complexity.
by Frankie Armstrong
filename[
SF
===DOCUMENT