Аккорды Robert Louis Stevenson - Heather Ale

Am C G Am x2  Am

Am                         C
From the bonny bells of heather
      G                 Am
They brewed a drink long-syne,
                      C
Was sweeter far then honey,
         G             Am
Was stronger far than wine.
Am
They brewed it and they drank it,
     G                 Am
And lay in a blessed swound
Am
For days and days together
C             G            Am  Am
In their dwellings underground.

 Am                    C
There rose a king in Scotland,
  G                C
A fell man to his foes
                        C
He smote the Picts in battle,
     G               Am
He hunted them like roes.
                          C
Оvеr miles of the red mountain
    G              Am
He hunted as they fled,
                            C
And strewed the dwarfish bodies
        G             Am  Am
Оf the dying and the dead.

F                       C
Summer came in the country,
  G                  Am
Red was the heather bell;
      F                 C
But the manner of the brewing
     G             Am
Was none alive to tell.
                           C
In graves that were like children's
    G               Am
Оn many a mountain head,
                         C
The Brewsters of the Heather
Am    C                Am 
Lay numbered with the dead.

Am Am

Am                       C
The king in the red moorland
 G                 Am
Rode on a summer's day;
                              C
And the bees hummed, and the curlews
  G               Am
Cried beside the way.
                       C
The king rode, and was angry,
   G                    Am
Black was his brow and pale,
                      C
To rule in a land of heather
    G                 Am    Am
And lack the Heather Ale.

  F                      C
It fortuned that his vassals,
  G                 Am
Riding free on the heath,
A   F                      C
Came on a stone that was fallen
    G            Am
And vermin hid beneath.
                             C
Rudely plucked from their hiding,
   G                 Am
Never a word they spoke;
                      C
A son and his aged father --
 A        G           Am
Last of the dwarfish folk.
 
Am Am 

Am                         C
The king sat high on his charger,
     G                  Am
He looked on the little men;
                               C
And the dwarfish and swarthy couple
 G                   Am
Looked at the king again.
                     A
Down by the shore he had them;
      G                 Am
And there on the giddy brink --
                            C
"I will give you life, ye vermin,
         G             Am
For the secret of the drink."

F                        C
There stood the son and father,
     G                  Am
And they looked high and low;
A    F                      C
The heather was red around them,
    G             Am
The sea rumbled below.
                      C
And up and spoke the father,
   G                     Am
Shrill was his voice to hear:
                     C
"I have a word in private,
   A                Am    
A word for the royal ear.

Am Am

 Am                    C
"Life is dear to the aged,
     G                Am
And honour a little thing;
                           C
I would gladly sell the secret,"
G                      Am
Quoth the Pict to the king.
                             C
His voice was small as a sparrow's,
    G                      Am
And shrill and wonderful clear:
                            C
"I would gladly sell my secret,
        Am             Am
Оnlу my son I fear.

 F                      C
"For life is a little matter,
      G                    Am
And death is nought to the young;
A     F                 C
And I dare not sell my honour
   G                Am
Under the eye of my son.
                        A
Take him, О king, and bind him,
    G                  Am
And cast him far in the deep;
                           C
And it's I will tell the secret
A            G        Am 
That I have sworn to keep."

Am Am

   Am                      C
They took the son and bound him,
 G                   Am
Neck and heels in a thong,
                         C
And a lad took him and swung him,
      G                  Am
And flung him far and strong,
                           C
And the sea swallowed his body,
      G                 Am
Like that of a child of ten; --
                                  C
And there on the cliff stood the father,
 A           G        Am     Am
Last of the dwarfish men.

  F                   C
"True was the word I told you:
      G         Am
Оnlу my son I feared;
    F                     C
For I doubt the sapling courage
     G                 Am
That goes without the beard.
                        C
But now in vain is the torture,
  G                Am
Fire shall never avail:
                 A
Here dies in my bosom
 Am           G       Am
The secret of Heather Ale."

Am Am C G Am x2  Am

Capo 3