Luyện nghe bài hát The Lass O Ballochmyle

The Lass O'
(Robert Burns)
even: the dewy fields were green,
On every the pearls hang,
The zeghyr round the bean,
An bore its sweets alang,
In ev'ry the mavis sang,
AII list'ning seem'd the while,
where greenwood echoes rang,
Amang the o Ballochmyle.
With careless 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.
whisper'd, passing by:-
'Behold the o Ballochmyle!'
is the morn in flowery May
And is night in autumn mild,
When roving thro the gay,
Or in the lonely wild;
But woman, Nature's darling -
all her charms she does compile -
Even there her works are foil'd
By the bonie o Ballochmyle.
0, had she been a maid,
And I the country swain,
Tho shelter'd in the shed
That rose on Scotia's plain!
Thro weary winter's wind and
With joy, with rapture, I toil,
And nightly to my strain
The lass o Ballochmyle!
Then Pride climb the slipp'ry steep,
Where fame and lofty shine;
And thirst of gold tempt the deep,
Or downward seek the mine!
Give me the cot the pine,
To the flocks or till the soil;
And ev'ry day have divine
With the bonie o Ballochmyle.
Ettrick Banks (89)
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