Luyện nghe bài hát Prince Heathen

Prince
Margaret sat in a tower high
And she's as pale as a milk white
she saw a shadow on the plain
Come her and the sun.
"Oh, mother, is it a
Or a of ravens in the air,
Or a black army a silver flag
And a ragged man amongst there?"
"Oh, daughter, go run in little yard
And bid adieu to your so gay.
For comes Prince Heathen's men
And I fear they're coming to you away."
In there come Prince Heathen then,
"Good day to you.
And where will l that sweet little bride
With her hands as as morning dew?"
Margaret locked her bower door
But his men soon made the spring
And in come Prince Heathen then
And to her a gay gold ring.
Back at him the she flung
She "Of you I have no fear.
I'll call you wolf-hound times
then call you husband dear."
He swore then, by her hair,
He'd her weep and call him dear.
taken her in his two dark arms,
And laid her on the cold floor.
And he set her free again,
Her from her he's ta'en:
"Ha ha, bonny maid, you weep now?"
"You dog, nor yet for you."
cast her down in a cabin of stone
Where forty did hang thereto.
"Ha ha, bonny maid, you weep now?"
"You dog, nor yet for you."
"Come, give my of the salt, salt meat,
And bitter for her brew,
"Ha ha, maid, will you weep now?"
"You dog, nor yet for you."
Prince Heathen down from the mountains
he'd been hunting with his armoured men.
He came unto fair young maid
All in the where she is laid.
"A drink, a drink, Heathen" she said.
"Even if it's the muddy well pool."
"Never a drink! Will you now?"
"You dog, nor yet for thee."
He's her by her yellow hair,
And it to his horse's tail.
He's dragged her the bushes and briars
That so thick all on the plain
"Ride slower, slower, Heathen" she says
"Already the has filled me shoe".
"Ha ha, bonny maid, you weep now?"
"You dog, nor yet for you."
He shortened 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, Heathen," she says
"For the road it sorely 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 a pitiful cry,
And there she's had her little born.
"Oh how can I wrap me sweet babe
Seeing as nothing to roll him in?"
He to her his saddle blanket
"That'll him from cheek to chin".
As she the blanket from his hand
down her cheeks they trickling run.
"Ha ha, maid, will you weep now?".
"You dog, nor yet for you."
"I'm for me own little son;
blanket's too rough to roll him in,
and alas, the day I rue
That ever I met such as you!"
He says "Go wash my in the milk,
And dress my in the silk;
When hearts are breaking, hands bow,
And I love my lady now".
She says "When violets bloom on the
And grow on the kitchen floor,
then that I'll return again
And be your forevermore".
Child
A. L. Lloyd refurbished ancient Child ballad. The
tension of the song stems from the juxtaposition be-
tween stark brutality and psychological complexity.
by Frankie Armstrong
filename[
SF
===DOCUMENT