TAILIEUCHUNG - Ivanhoe -Sir Walter Scott -Chapter 40 (p2)

Ivanhoe -Sir Walter Scott -Chapter 40 (p2) Đây là một tác phẩm anh ngữ nổi tiếng với những từ vựng nâng cao chuyên ngành văn chương. Nhằm giúp các bạn yêu thich tiếng anh luyện tập và củng cố thêm kỹ năng đọc tiếng anh . | Ivanhoe Sir Walter Scott Chapter 40 p2 At the point of their journey at which we take them up this joyous pair were engaged in singing a virelai as it was called in which the clown bore a mellow burden to the better instructed Knight of the Fetterlock. And thus run the ditty Anna-Marie love up is the sun Anna-Marie love morn is begun Mists are dispersing love birds singing free Up in the morning love Anna-Marie. Anna-Marie love up in the morn The hunter is winding blithe sounds on his horn The echo rings merry from rock and from tree Tis time to arouse thee love Anna-Marie. Wamba. O Tybalt love Tybalt awake me not yet Around my soft pillow while softer dreams flit For what are the joys that in waking we prove Compared with these visions O Tybalt my love Let the birds to the rise of the mist carol shrill Let the hunter blow out his loud horn on the hill Softer sounds softer pleasures in slumber I prove But think not I dreamt of thee Tybalt my love. A dainty song said Wamba when they had finished their carol and I swear by my bauble a pretty moral I used to sing it with Gurth once my playfellow and now by the grace of God and his master no less than a freemen and we once came by the cudgel for being so entranced by the melody that we lay in bed two hours after sunrise singing the ditty betwixt sleeping and waking my bones ache at thinking of the tune ever since. Nevertheless I have played the part of Anna-Marie to please you fair sir. The Jester next struck into another carol a sort of comic ditty to which the Knight catching up the tune replied in the like manner. Knight and Wamba. There came three merry men from south west and north Ever more sing the roundelay To win the Widow of Wycombe forth And where was the widow might say them nay The first was a knight and from Tynedale he came Ever more sing the roundelay And his fathers God save us were men of great faine And where was the widow might say him nay Of his father the laird of his uncle the squire He boasted .

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