Luyện nghe bài hát The Lass O Ballochmyle

The O' Ballochmyle
(Robert Burns)
'Twas the dewy fields were green,
On every the pearls hang,
The zeghyr round the bean,
An bore its sweets alang,
In ev'ry glen the sang,
AII list'ning seem'd the while,
where greenwood echoes rang,
Amang the o Ballochmyle.
With step I onward stray'd,
My heart rejoic'd in joy,
When, in a lonely glade,
A maiden fair I to spy.
Her look was like the eye,
Her air like vernal smile.
Perfection whisper'd, passing
'Behold the o Ballochmyle!'
Fair is the in flowery May
And sweet is night in mild,
When thro the garden gay,
Or wand'ring in the lonely
But woman, Nature's child -
There all her charms she compile -
Even there her other works are
By the bonie o Ballochmyle.
0, had she a country maid,
And I the country swain,
Tho in the lowest shed
That rose on Scotia's plain!
Thro weary wind and rain
With joy, with rapture, I toil,
And nightly to my strain
The bonie o Ballochmyle!
Then might climb the slipp'ry steep,
Where and honours lofty shine;
And thirst of gold might the deep,
Or downward seek the mine!
me the cot below the pine,
To tend the or till the soil;
And ev'ry day have joys
the bonie lass o Ballochmyle.
Tune: Banks (89)
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