Luyện nghe bài hát To The Weavers Gin Ye Go

TO THE WEAVER"S GIN YE GO
(Robert Burns)
My was ance as blythe and free
As simmer were lang;
But a bonie, westlin lad
Has me change my sang.

To the gin ye go, fair maids,
To the gin ye go,
I rede you right, ne'er at night,
To the gin ye go.
My sent me to the town,
To warp a wab;
But the weary, weary o't
Has gart me and sab.
A bonie, westlin lad
Sat working at his
He my heart, as wi' a net,
In knot and thrum.
I sat my warpin-wheel,
And ay I it roun'.
But shot and every knock,
My it gae a stoun.
The was sinking in the west,
Wi' visage and wan,
As my bonie, westlin lad
Convoy'd me the glen.
But what was said, or was done,
fa' me gin I tell;
But Oh! I fear the soon
ken as weel's mysel!
tune: To the gin ye go (194)

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