[00:00.00]90听音乐网 www.90T8.com [00:00.34]The Village Blacksmith - Peter Dawson [00:10.14]Under a spreading chestnut tree [00:13.83]The village smithy stands; [00:18.12]The smith a mighty man is he [00:22.20]With large and sinewy hands; [00:26.59]And the muscles of his brawney arms [00:31.09]Are strong as iron bands [00:35.42]His hair is crisp and black and long [00:40.14]His face is like the tan; [00:44.50]His brow is wet with honest sweat [00:49.19]He earns what'er he can [00:53.01]And looks the whole word in the face [00:58.75]For he owes not any man [01:14.86]Week in week out from morn till night [01:20.00]You can hear his bellows blow; [01:24.73]You can hear his strike heavy sledge [01:29.81]He bellow beat blow and slow [01:35.43]Like a sexton ringing the village bell [01:40.32]When the evening sun is low [01:45.29]And children coming home from school [01:50.68]Look in at the open door; [01:55.15]They love to see the flaming forge [01:59.64]And hear the bellows roar [02:03.25]And catch the flaming sparks that fly [02:08.42]Like chaff from a threshing floor [02:24.87]He goes on Sunday to the church [02:30.57]And sits among his boys; [02:36.19]He hears the parson pray and preach [02:42.62]He hears his daughter's voice [02:48.70]Singing in the choir [02:51.26]While it sounded to make his heart rejoice [02:59.97]It sounds to him like his mother's voice [03:06.04]Singing in Paradise [03:11.11]He needs must think of her once more [03:16.88]How in the grave she lies; [03:23.73]And with his hard rough hands he wipes [03:30.27]A tear out of his eyes [03:38.80]Toiing rejoicing sorrowing [03:42.70]Onward in life he goes; [03:46.14]Each morning sees some task begin [03:50.03]Each evening sees it close; [03:53.76]Something attempted something done [03:58.75]Has earned his night's repose
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[00:00.00]90听音乐网 www.90T8.com[00:00.34]The Village Blacksmith - Peter Dawson
[00:10.14]Under a spreading chestnut tree
[00:13.83]The village smithy stands;
[00:18.12]The smith a mighty man is he
[00:22.20]With large and sinewy hands;
[00:26.59]And the muscles of his brawney arms
[00:31.09]Are strong as iron bands
[00:35.42]His hair is crisp and black and long
[00:40.14]His face is like the tan;
[00:44.50]His brow is wet with honest sweat
[00:49.19]He earns what'er he can
[00:53.01]And looks the whole word in the face
[00:58.75]For he owes not any man
[01:14.86]Week in week out from morn till night
[01:20.00]You can hear his bellows blow;
[01:24.73]You can hear his strike heavy sledge
[01:29.81]He bellow beat blow and slow
[01:35.43]Like a sexton ringing the village bell
[01:40.32]When the evening sun is low
[01:45.29]And children coming home from school
[01:50.68]Look in at the open door;
[01:55.15]They love to see the flaming forge
[01:59.64]And hear the bellows roar
[02:03.25]And catch the flaming sparks that fly
[02:08.42]Like chaff from a threshing floor
[02:24.87]He goes on Sunday to the church
[02:30.57]And sits among his boys;
[02:36.19]He hears the parson pray and preach
[02:42.62]He hears his daughter's voice
[02:48.70]Singing in the choir
[02:51.26]While it sounded to make his heart rejoice
[02:59.97]It sounds to him like his mother's voice
[03:06.04]Singing in Paradise
[03:11.11]He needs must think of her once more
[03:16.88]How in the grave she lies;
[03:23.73]And with his hard rough hands he wipes
[03:30.27]A tear out of his eyes
[03:38.80]Toiing rejoicing sorrowing
[03:42.70]Onward in life he goes;
[03:46.14]Each morning sees some task begin
[03:50.03]Each evening sees it close;
[03:53.76]Something attempted something done
[03:58.75]Has earned his night's repose
