Bella Hardy - Henry And Clara
Paroles traduites de Bella Hardy - Henry And Clara en
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- Publié 2024-05-05 00:00:00
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- Bella Hardy
- Henry And Clara
- Traduction par: panzas
Henry And Clara
Over moors and valleys deep, through the Dark Peak and the White
There two tragic lovers sleep in gritstone, blood, and lime.
Clara, such a tender girl, virtuous and fair to see
Daughter of a wealthy Lord, but cruel as death was he.
Suitors rich and mighty came, all for Clara’s favour strove
But only one, with fortunes none, young Henry stole her love
“Come my Clara, let’s be gone, slipping silent out of sight
From your fathers house we’ll steal into this moonless night”
Fast they rode to lands unknown, through the Dark Peak and the White,
Seeking for a place renown for pitying young loves plight.
So to Peak Forest they were led, where the Martyr’s bells do chime
And in God’s house these two were wed, in gritstone, blood, and lime.
Now this couple joined as one, laugh so glad the valleys ring
But as they ride for Castleton cold night comes creeping in
In Winnats Pass so dark and deep, five murderess miners lingered there
And lost in love, this hapless two were caught so unaware
Long, young Henry struggled brave, fought with every breath of power
‘Till at last his strength is gone, all in that midnight hour
Henry’s wrestled to the ground, and with poor Clara’s desperate cries
A knife is drawn across his throat; her love, her husband dies.
Then turning on this girl so dear, in one swift axe blow she too fell
Oh how good grace and justice slumbered in that dreadful dell.
Dark and darker grows the sky, through the dale the whirlwind howls
On its head the black cloud lows where hard the grey rock growls
But these five most murderess men, all fell foul to fates revenge
One tumbled down that self same dell, and one was crushed to death
One with guilt his own life took and one died mad before his time,
And the last, on his death bed confessed this terrible crime.
See in Speedwell cavern there, Clara’s saddle still at hand
All that’s left to tell the tale that’s buried in this land.
Over moors and valleys deep, through the Dark Peak and the White,
There two tragic lovers sleep in gritstone, blood, and lime
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