Luyện nghe bài hát John Barleycorn

There were three men out of the west
fortunes for to try
And three men made a solemn oath
John Barleycorn die

ploughed, they've sown, they've harrowed him in
Threw clods his head
And these three men made a vow
John was dead

They've let him lie for a long time
Till the rains heaven did fall
And little Sir sprung up his head
And so amazed all

They've let him stand till day
Till he looked pale and wan
And little Sir John's grown a long, beard
And so a man

They've hired men with the scythes so
To cut him off at the
They've him and tied him by the way
Serving him most

hired men with the sharp pitchforks
Who pricked him to the
And the loader he has served him worse than
For he's him to the cart

They've wheeled him around and around the
they came unto a barn
And they made a solemn oath
On poor John

hired men with the crab-tree sticks
To cut his skin bone
And the he has served him worse than that
For he's ground him between two

And little Sir and the nut-brown bowl
And brandy in the glass
And little Sir John and the nut-brown
Proved the man at last

The huntsman, he hunt the fox
Nor so loudly to blow his
And the tinker he mend kettle nor pot
a little Barleycorn