Текст песни The Hills of Greenmore - Steeleye Span
Traditional
One
fine
winter's
morn
my
horn
I
did
blow
To
the
green
fields
of
Keady
for
hours
we
did
go
We
covered
our
dogs
and
we
searched
all
the
way
For
none
loves
this
sport
better
than
the
boys
in
the
Dale.
And
when
we
are
rising
we're
all
standing
there
We
sit
up
by
the
fields,
boys,
in
search
of
the
hare
We
didn't
get
far
till
someone
gave
the
cheer
Over
high
hills
and
valleys
this
sweet
puss
did
steer
As
we
flew
o'er
the
hills,
'twas
a
beautiful
sight
There
was
dogs
black
and
yellow,
there
was
dogs
black
and
bright
Now
she
took
to
the
black
bank
for
to
try
them
once
more
Oh
it
was
her
last
ride
o'er
the
hills
of
Greenmore
In
the
field
fleet
stubble
this
pussy
die
lie
And
in
growing
chary
they
did
pass
her
by
And
there
well
we
stood
at
the
top
of
the
brae
We
heard
the
last
words
that
this
sweet
puss
did
say:
"No
more
o'er
the
green
fields
of
Keady
I'll
roam
In
touch
of
the
fields,
boys,
in
sporting
and
fun
Or
hear
the
long
horn
that
your
toner
does
play
I'll
go
home
to
my
den
by
the
clear
light
of
day"
You
may
blame
our
right
man
for
killing
the
hare
For
he
said
his
o.k.
first
this
many
a
year
On
saturday
and
sunday
he
never
gives
o'er
With
a
pack
of
strange
dogs
round
the
hills
of
Greenmore.
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