歌曲 | The Weaver and the Factory Maid |
歌手 | Steeleye Span |
专辑 | The Very Best of Steeleye Span - Present |
作词 : Traditional | |
Oh, when I was a tailor, | |
I carried my bodkin and shears | |
When I was a weaver, | |
I carried my roods and my gear | |
My temples also, my small clothes and reed in my hand | |
And wherever | |
I go, here's the jolly bold weaver again | |
I'm a hand weaver to my trade | |
I fell in love with a factory maid | |
And if I could but her favour win | |
I'd stand beside her and weave by steam | |
My father to me scornful said"How could you fancy a factory maid?" | |
When you could have girls fine and gay | |
Dressed like unto the | |
Queen of May | |
As for your fine girls | |
I don't care | |
If I could but enjoy my dear | |
I'd stand in the factory all the day | |
And she and | |
I'd keep our shuttles in play | |
I went to my love's bedroom door | |
Where often times | |
I had been before | |
But I could not speak nor yet get in | |
The pleasant bed that my love lies in | |
How can you say it's a pleasant bed | |
When nowt lies there but a factory maid? | |
And a factory lass although she be | |
Blest is the man that enjoys she | |
O pleasant thoughts come to me mind | |
As I turn down the sheets so fine | |
And I seen her two breasts standing so | |
Like two white hills all covered with snow | |
The loom goes click and the loom goes clack | |
The shuttle flies forward and then flies back | |
The weaver's so bent that he's like to crack | |
Such a wearisome trade is the weaver | |
The yarn is made into cloth at last | |
The ends of the weft they are made quite fast | |
The weaver's labors are now all past | |
Such a wearisome trade is the weaver | |
Where are the girls, | |
I will tell you plain | |
The girls have gone to weave by steam | |
And if you'd find them you must rise at dawn | |
And trudge to the mill in the early morn | |
Oh, when I was a tailor, | |
I carried my bodkin and shears | |
When I was a weaver, | |
I carried my roods and my gear | |
My temples also, my small clothes and reed in my hand | |
And wherever | |
I go, here's the jolly bold weaver again |
zuò cí : Traditional | |
Oh, when I was a tailor, | |
I carried my bodkin and shears | |
When I was a weaver, | |
I carried my roods and my gear | |
My temples also, my small clothes and reed in my hand | |
And wherever | |
I go, here' s the jolly bold weaver again | |
I' m a hand weaver to my trade | |
I fell in love with a factory maid | |
And if I could but her favour win | |
I' d stand beside her and weave by steam | |
My father to me scornful said" How could you fancy a factory maid?" | |
When you could have girls fine and gay | |
Dressed like unto the | |
Queen of May | |
As for your fine girls | |
I don' t care | |
If I could but enjoy my dear | |
I' d stand in the factory all the day | |
And she and | |
I' d keep our shuttles in play | |
I went to my love' s bedroom door | |
Where often times | |
I had been before | |
But I could not speak nor yet get in | |
The pleasant bed that my love lies in | |
How can you say it' s a pleasant bed | |
When nowt lies there but a factory maid? | |
And a factory lass although she be | |
Blest is the man that enjoys she | |
O pleasant thoughts come to me mind | |
As I turn down the sheets so fine | |
And I seen her two breasts standing so | |
Like two white hills all covered with snow | |
The loom goes click and the loom goes clack | |
The shuttle flies forward and then flies back | |
The weaver' s so bent that he' s like to crack | |
Such a wearisome trade is the weaver | |
The yarn is made into cloth at last | |
The ends of the weft they are made quite fast | |
The weaver' s labors are now all past | |
Such a wearisome trade is the weaver | |
Where are the girls, | |
I will tell you plain | |
The girls have gone to weave by steam | |
And if you' d find them you must rise at dawn | |
And trudge to the mill in the early morn | |
Oh, when I was a tailor, | |
I carried my bodkin and shears | |
When I was a weaver, | |
I carried my roods and my gear | |
My temples also, my small clothes and reed in my hand | |
And wherever | |
I go, here' s the jolly bold weaver again |