Luyện nghe bài hát Bitter Withy

BITTER
As it fell out on a high
Small rain the sky did fall
Jesus asked of his own mother dear
Whether he might play at
To play, to play, child she did say
time that you have been gone
And don't let me hear about you
At night when you do home
Now our Savior walked down into town
As far as the holy, holy
And he met three of the finest children
That ever any could tell
Good morn, good morn, morn, said they
Good morning, said he, said he
Now which of you fine children
Will play at ball me
Oh we are and ladies sons
in a bowery hall
And you are but a maiden's
Born in an oxen
Now our savior built a bridge with the of the sun
and the water ran he, ran he
And the three jolly followed after him
And drowned they all three
The upward ball and the ball
mothers they did wail and squall
Saying, Mary mild, fetch home child
For are drownded all
Then mild picked a handful of withies
And laid our dear savior across her
And with that handful of withy
She gave him three
Oh cursed be to the withy
That has caused me to smart, to
And that be the very first tree
That shall perish right at the
recorded by & Lloyd- English & Scottish Ballads; Roberts &
Barrand - Sing We Clear
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