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Terry Taffinder Grosvenor
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The Highwayman
The wind was a torrent of darkness among the gusty trees The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas The road was a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor And the highwayman came riding - riding—riding The highwayman came riding up to the old inn door
He'd a French cocked-hat on his forehead A bunch of lace at his chin A coat of the claret velvet and breeches of brown doe-skin They fitted with never a wrinkle -his boots were up to the thigh And he rode with a jeweled twinkle, his pistol butts a-twinkle His rapier hilt a-twinkle, under the jeweled sky
Over the cobbles he clattered and clashed in the dark inn-yard He tapped with his whip on the shutters But all was locked and barred He whistled a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there But the landlord's black-eyed daughter Bess, the landlord's daughter Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair
And dark in the dark old inn-yard, a stable-wicket creaked Where Tim the ostler listened - his face was white and peaked His eyes were hollows of madness, his hair like mouldy hay But he loved the landlord's daughter The landlord's red-lipped daughter Dumb as a dog he listened, and he heard the robber say
One kiss, my bonny sweetheart, I'm after a prize to-night But I shall be back with the yellow gold before the morning light Yet, if they press me sharply, and harry me through the day Then look for me by moonlight, watch for me by moonlight I'll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way
He rose upright in the stirrups - he scarce could reach her hand But she loosened her hair in the casement His face burnt like a brand As the black cascade of perfume came tumbling over his breast And he kissed its waves in the moonlight Oh, sweet black waves in the moonlight Then he tugged at his rein in the moonlight And galloped away to the west
He did not come in the dawning - he did not come at noon And out of the tawny sunset, before the rise of the moon When the road was a gypsy's ribbon, looping the purple moor A red-coat troop came marching - marching—marching King George's men came marching up to the old inn-door
They said no word to the landlord - they drank his ale instead But they gagged his daughter and bound her To the foot of her narrow bed Two of them knelt at her casement, with muskets at their side There was death at every window, and hell at one dark window For Bess could see through her casement The road that he would ride.
They had tied her up to attention, with many a sniggering jest They had bound a musket beside her With the muzzle beneath her breast 'Now, keep good watch!' and they kissed her She heard the doomed man say Look for me by moonlight, watch for me by moonlight I'll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way Though hell should bar the way
She twisted her hands behind her, but all the knots held good She writhed her hands till her fingers were wet with sweat or blood 更多更詳盡歌詞 在 ※ Mojim.com 魔鏡歌詞網 They stretched and strained in the darkness And the hours crawled by like years Till, now on the stroke of midnight, cold on the stroke of midnight The tip of one finger touched it The trigger at least was hers
The tip of one finger touched it -she strove no more for the rest Up she stood up to attention, with the muzzle beneath her breast She would not risk their hearing - she would not strive again For the road lay bare in the moonlight Blank and bare in the moonlight And the blood of her veins in the moonlight Throbbed to her love's refrain.
Tlot-tlot, tlot-tlot, had they heard it The horsehoofs ringing clear Tlot-tlot; tlot-tlot, in the distance Were they deaf that they did not hear Down the ribbon of moonlight, over the brow of the hill The highwayman came riding—riding—riding The red coats looked to their priming She stood up straight and still
Tlot-tlot in the frosty silence! Tlot-tlot in the echoing night Nearer he came and nearer - her face was like a light Her eyes grew wide for a moment She drew one last deep breath Then her finger moved in the moonlight Her musket shattered the moonlight Shattered her breast in the moonlight And warned him with her death
He turned, he spurred to the west - he did not know who stood Bowed with her head o'er the musket Drenched with her own blood Not till the dawn he heard it, and his face grew grey to hear How Bess, the landlord's daughter The landlord's black-eyed daughter Had watched for her love in the moonlight And died in the darkness there.
Back he spurred like a madman, shrieking a curse to the sky With the white road smoking behind him And his rapier brandished high Blood red were his spurs in the golden noon Wine-red was his velvet coat When they shot him down on the highway Down like a dog on the highway And he lay in his blood on the highway With a bunch of lace at his throat
And still of a winter's night, they say When the wind is in the trees When the moon is a ghostly galleon, tossed upon cloudy seas When the road is a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor A highwayman comes riding—riding—riding A highwayman comes riding, up to the old inn door
Over the cobbles he clatters and clangs in the dark inn-yard He taps with his whip on the shutters, but all is locked and barred He whistles a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there But the landlord's black-eyed daughter, Bess, the landlord's daughter Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair
Based on a poem by Alfred Noyes
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