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作曲 : Traditional |
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It's cold and raw the north winds blow |
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Black in the morning early |
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When all the hills were covered with snow, |
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Oh then it was winter fairly, |
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As I riding was riding o'er the moor, |
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I met a farmer's daughter, |
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Her cherry cheeks and sloe black eyes, |
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They caused my heart to falter. |
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I bowed my bonnet very low |
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To let her know my meaning. |
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She answered with a courteous smile, |
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Her looks they were engaging. |
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"Where are you bound my pretty maid, |
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It's now in the morning early." |
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The answer that she made to me, |
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"Kind sir to sell me barley." |
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|
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"Now twenty guineas I've in my purse, |
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And twenty more that's yearly, |
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You need not go to the market town, |
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For I'll buy all your barley. |
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If twenty gunieas would gain the heart |
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Of the maid I love so dearly, |
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All for to tarry with me one night, |
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And go home in the morning early." |
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|
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As I was riding o'er the moor |
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The very evening after, |
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It was my fortune for to meet |
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The farmer's only daughter. |
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Although the weather being cold and raw, |
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With her I thought to parley. |
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This answer then she made to me, |
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"Kind sir I've sold me barley." |
