Luyện nghe bài hát The Lass O Ballochmyle

The Lass O'
(Robert Burns)
'Twas the dewy fields were green,
On every blade the hang,
The wanton'd round the bean,
An bore its fragrant alang,
In glen the mavis sang,
AII Nature seem'd the while,
Except where echoes rang,
the braes o Ballochmyle.
With step I onward stray'd,
My rejoic'd in Nature's joy,
When, in a lonely glade,
A maiden fair I to spy.
Her look was the morning's eye,
Her air like Nature's smile.
whisper'd, passing by:-
'Behold the o Ballochmyle!'
Fair is the morn in May
And sweet is night in mild,
When roving the garden gay,
Or wand'ring in the lonely
But woman, Nature's darling -
There all her charms she compile -
Even there her other works are
By the lass o Ballochmyle.
0, had she a country maid,
And I the country swain,
Tho shelter'd in the shed
ever rose on Scotia's plain!
Thro winter's wind and rain
joy, with rapture, I would toil,
And to my bosom strain
The lass o Ballochmyle!
Then Pride climb the slipp'ry steep,
Where fame and honours lofty
And thirst of gold might the deep,
Or downward the Indian mine!
me the cot below the pine,
To the flocks or till the soil;
And ev'ry day have divine
the bonie lass o Ballochmyle.
Tune: Ettrick (89)
BALCHMYL
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