Текст песни High Germany - Martin Carthy
"Oh
Polly
love,
oh
Polly,
the
rout
has
now
begun,
And
we
must
go
a-marching
to
the
beating
of
the
drum.
Go
dress
yourself
all
in
your
best
and
come
along
with
me;
I′ll
take
you
to
the
war,
my
love,
in
High
Germany."
"Oh
Willy
love,
oh
Willy,
come
list
what
I
do
say,
My
feet
they
are
so
tender,
I
cannot
march
away.
And
besides,
my
dearest
Willy,
I
am
with
child
by
thee,
Not
fitted
for
the
war,
my
love,
in
High
Germany."
"I'll
buy
for
you
a
horse,
my
love,
and
on
it
you
shall
ride
And
all
my
delight
shall
be
a-riding
by
your
side.
We′ll
stop
at
every
alehouse
and
drink
when
we
are
dry,
We'll
be
true
to
one
another,
get
married
by
and
by."
Oh,
cursed
be
them
cruel
wars
that
ever
they
should
rise
And
out
of
Merry
England
press
many
a
man
likewise.
They
pressed
my
true
love
from
me,
likewise
my
brothers
three,
And
sent
them
to
the
war,
my
love,
in
High
Germany.
My
friends
I
do
not
value
nor
my
foes
I
do
not
fear,
Now
my
love
has
left
me
I
wander
far
and
near.
And
when
my
baby
it
is
born
and
a-smiling
on
my
knee
I'll
think
on
lovely
Willy
in
High
Germany.
(Repeat
first
verse)
1 High Germany
2 The Trees They Do Grow High
3 Sovay
4 Ye Mariners All
5 The Queen of Hearts
6 Broomfield Hill
7 Springhill Mine Disaster
8 Scarborough Fair
9 Lovely Joan
10 The Barley and the Rye
11 The Wind That Shakes The Barley
12 The Two Magicians
13 The Handsome Cabin Boy
14 And a Begging I Will Go
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