The Broomfield Hill-Martin Carthy/Dave Swarbrick

歌手 : Martin Carthy / Dave Swarbrick

专辑 : Both Ears And The Tail

语种 : 英语

时长 : 03:30

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TXT The Broomfield Hill-Martin Carthy/Dave Swarbrick 文本歌词

The Broomfield Hill - Martin Carthy/Dave Swarbrick

Oh it's of a lord in the north country

He courted a lady gay

As they were riding side by side

A wager she did lay

"Oh I'll wager you five hundred pound

Five hundred pound to one

That a maid I will go to the merry greenwood

And a maid I will return "

So there she sat in her mother's bower garden

There she made her moan

Saying "should I go to the broomfield hill

Or should I stay at home "

Then up and spake this witch woman

As she sat on a log

Saying "you shall go to the broomfield hill

And a maid you shall come home "

"Oh when you get to the broomfield hill

You'll find your love asleep

With his hawk his hound

And his silk and satin gown

And his ribbons hanging down to his feet "

"And pick the blossom from off the broom

The blossom that smells so sweet

And lay some down at the crown of his head

And more at the sole of his feet "

So she's away to the broomfield hill

And she's found her love asleep

With his hawk his hound

And his silk and satin gown

And his ribbons hanging down to his feet

And she's picked a blossom from off the broom

The blossom that smells so sweet

And she's laid some down at the crown of his head

And more at the sole of his feet

And she's pulled off her diamond ring

And she's pressed it in his right hand

For to let him know

When he'd wakened from his sleep

That his love had been there at his command

And when he woke out of his sleep

And the birds began to sing

Saying "awake awake awake master

Your true love's been and gone "

"Oh where were you me gay goshawk

And where were you me steed

And where were you me good greyhound

Why did you not waken me "

"Oh I clapped with my wings master

And bold your bells I rang

Crying waken waken waken master

Before this lady ran "

"And I stamped with my foot master

And I shook me bridle till it rang

But nothing at all would waken you

Till she had been and gone "

"So haste ye haste ye me good white steed

To come where she may be

Or all the birds of the broomfield hill

Shall eat their fill of thee "

"Oh you need not waste your good white steed

By racing to her home

For no bird flies faster through the wood

Than she fled through the broom "