Текст песни The Wind That Shakes The Barley - Martin Carthy
                                                    I 
                                                sat 
                                                within 
                                                the 
                                                valley 
                                                green 
                                                sat 
                                                there 
                                                with 
                                                my 
                                                true 
                                                love
 
                                    
                                
                                                And 
                                                my 
                                                fond 
                                                heart 
                                                strove 
                                                to 
                                                choose 
                                                between 
                                                the 
                                                old 
                                                love 
                                                and 
                                                the 
                                                new 
                                                love
 
                                    
                                
                                                The 
                                                old 
                                                for 
                                                her 
                                                the 
                                                new 
                                                that 
                                                made 
                                                me 
                                                think 
                                                on 
                                                Ireland 
                                                dearly
 
                                    
                                
                                                While 
                                                soft 
                                                the 
                                                wind 
                                                blew 
                                                down 
                                                the 
                                                glade 
                                                and 
                                                shook 
                                                the 
                                                golden 
                                                barley
 
                                    
                                
                                                Twas 
                                                hard 
                                                for 
                                                mournful 
                                                words 
                                                to 
                                                frame 
                                                to 
                                                break 
                                                the 
                                                ties 
                                                that 
                                                bound 
                                                us
 
                                    
                                
                                                Ah 
                                                but 
                                                harder 
                                                still 
                                                to 
                                                bear 
                                                the 
                                                shame 
                                                of 
                                                foreign 
                                                chains 
                                                around 
                                                us
 
                                    
                                
                                                And 
                                                so 
                                                    I 
                                                said 
                                                the 
                                                mountain 
                                                glen 
                                                I′ll 
                                                seek 
                                                at 
                                                morning 
                                                early
 
                                    
                                
                                                And 
                                                join 
                                                the 
                                                brave 
                                                united 
                                                men 
                                                while 
                                                soft 
                                                winds 
                                                shook 
                                                the 
                                                barley
 
                                    
                                
                                                Twas 
                                                sad 
                                                    I 
                                                kissed 
                                                away 
                                                her 
                                                tears 
                                                her 
                                                arms 
                                                around 
                                                me 
                                                clinging
 
                                    
                                
                                                When 
                                                to 
                                                my 
                                                ears 
                                                that 
                                                fateful 
                                                shot 
                                                came 
                                                out 
                                                the 
                                                wild 
                                                wood 
                                                ringing
 
                                    
                                
                                                The 
                                                bullet 
                                                pierced 
                                                my 
                                                true 
                                                love's 
                                                breast 
                                                in 
                                                life′s 
                                                young 
                                                spring 
                                                so 
                                                early
 
                                    
                                
                                                And 
                                                there 
                                                upon 
                                                my 
                                                breast 
                                                she 
                                                died 
                                                while 
                                                soft 
                                                winds 
                                                shook 
                                                the 
                                                barley
 
                                    
                                
                                                    I 
                                                bore 
                                                her 
                                                to 
                                                some 
                                                mountain 
                                                stream 
                                                and 
                                                many's 
                                                the 
                                                summer 
                                                blossom
 
                                    
                                
                                                    I 
                                                placed 
                                                with 
                                                branches 
                                                soft 
                                                and 
                                                green 
                                                about 
                                                her 
                                                gore-stained 
                                                bosom
 
                                    
                                
                                                    I 
                                                wept 
                                                and 
                                                kissed 
                                                her 
                                                clay-cold 
                                                corpse 
                                                then 
                                                rushed 
                                                o'er 
                                                vale 
                                                and 
                                                valley
 
                                    
                                
                                                My 
                                                vengeance 
                                                on 
                                                the 
                                                foe 
                                                to 
                                                wreak 
                                                while 
                                                soft 
                                                winds 
                                                shook 
                                                the 
                                                barley
 
                                    
                                
                                                And 
                                                it′s 
                                                blood 
                                                for 
                                                blood 
                                                without 
                                                remorse 
                                                I′ve 
                                                took 
                                                in 
                                                Oulart 
                                                Hollow*
 
                                    
                                
                                                While 
                                                to 
                                                her 
                                                grave 
                                                my 
                                                love's 
                                                cold 
                                                corpse 
                                                where 
                                                    I 
                                                full 
                                                soon 
                                                may 
                                                follow
 
                                    
                                
                                                Around 
                                                her 
                                                grave 
                                                    I 
                                                wander 
                                                drear 
                                                noon 
                                                night 
                                                and 
                                                morning 
                                                early
 
                                    
                                
                                                With 
                                                breaking 
                                                heart 
                                                whene′er 
                                                    I 
                                                hear 
                                                the 
                                                wind 
                                                that 
                                                shakes 
                                                the 
                                                barley
 
                                    
                                
                            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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