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Review
Review
Review
Skye Boat Song Chorus lyrics
Review
Why do we make music?
Who made thee Hob forsake the Plough, and fall in love?
Sweet beauty which hath power to bow the gods above,
What, dost thou serve a shepherdess?
Ay, such as hath no peer I guess.
What is her name who bears thy heart within her breast?
Sylvana fair of high desert whom I love best,
Oh Hob, I fear she looks too high,
Yet love I must or else I die.
In fields abroad, where Trumpets shrill do sound,
where glaives & shields, do give & take the knocks,
where bodies dead, do overspread the ground:
and friends to foes, are common butchers blocks,
A gallant shot well managing his peece
in my conceit deserves a golden fleece.
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