Arquivo da tag: inglaterra

O moleiro de trigo

A brisk young lass so brisk and gay

She went unto the mill one day

There’s a peck of corn all for to grind

I can but stay a little time

Come sit you down my sweet pretty dear

I cannot grind your corn I fear

My stones is high my water is low

I cannot grind for the mill won’t go

Then she sat down all on a sack

They talked of this they talked of that

They talked of love, of love proved kind

She soon found out the mill would grind

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To the king

On swill & Grains you wich the poor to be fed and underneath the guillintine we could wish to see your heads

For I think it is a great shame to serve the poor so

And I think a few of your heads will make a preety show

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Arquivado em poemas