Phil Ochs - The Highwayman Lyrics
Pre>By alfred noyes---------------------------------Part oneIThe wind was a torrent of darkness among the gusty trees,The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,The road was a ribbon of moonlight, over the purple moor,And the highwayman came riding-Riding-riding-The highwayman came riding, up to the old inn-door.IiHed a french *****ed-hat on his forehead, a bunch of lace at his chin,A coat of the claret velvet, and breeches of brown doe-skin;They fitted with never a wrinkle: his boots were up to the thigh!And he rode with a jewelled twinkle,His pistol butts a-twinkle,His rapier hilt a-twinkle, under the jewelled sky.IiiOver the cobbles he clattered and clashed in the dark inn-yard,And he tapped with his whip on the shutters, but all was locked and barred;He whistled a tune to the window, and who should be waiting thereBut the landlords black-eyed daughter,Bess, the landlords daughter,Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair.IvAnd dark in the old inn-yard a stable-wicket creakedWhere tim the ostler listened; his face was white and peaked;His eyes were hollows of madness, his hair like mouldy hay,But he loved the landlords daughter,The landlords red-lipped daughter,Dumb as a dog he listened, and he heard the robber say-VOne kiss, my bonny sweetheart, Im after a prize to-night,But I shall be back with the yellow gold before the morning light;Yet, if they press me sharply, and harry me through the day,Then look for me by moonlight,Watch for me by moonlight,Ill come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way.ViHe rose upright in the stirrups; he scarce could reach her hand,But she loosened her hair i the casement! his face burnt like a brandAs the black cascade of perfume came tumbling over his breast;And he kissed its waves in the moonlight,(oh, sweet black waves in the moonlight!)Then he tugged at his rein in the moonlight, and galloped away to the west.Part twoIHe did not come in the dawning; he did not come at noon;And out o the tawny sunset, before the rise o the moon,When the road was a gipsys ribbon, looping the purple moor,A red-coat troop came marching-Marching-marching-King georges men came marching, up to the old inn-door.IiThey said no word to the landlord, they drank his ale instead,But they gagged his daughter and bound her to the foot of her narrow bed;Two of them knelt at her casement, with muskets at their side!There was death at every window;And hell at one dark window;For bess could see, through the casement, the road that he would ride.IiiThey had tied her up to attention, with many a sniggering jest;They bound a musket beside her, with the barrel beneath her breast!Now keep good watch! and they kissed her.She heard the dead man say-Look for me by moonlight;Watch for me by moonlight;Ill come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way!IvShe twisted her hands behind her; but all the knots held good!She writhed her hands till here fingers were wet with sweat or blood!They stretched and strained in the darkness, and the hours crawled by likeYears,Till, now, on the stroke of midnight,Cold, on the stroke of midnight,The tip of one finger touched it! the trigger at least was hers!VThe tip of one finger touched it; she strove no more for the rest!Up, she stood up to attention, with the barrel beneath her breast,She would not risk their hearing; she would not strive again;For the road lay bare in the moonlight;Blank and bare in the moonlight;And the blood of her veins in the moonlight throbbed to her loves refrain.ViTlot-tlot; tlot-tlot! had they heard it? the horse-hoofsRinging clear;Tlot-tlot, tlot-tlot, in the distance? were they deaf that they didNot hear?Down the ribbon of moonlight, over the brow of the hill,The highwayman came riding,Riding, riding!The red-coats looked to their priming! she stood up strait and still!ViiTlot-tlot, in the frosty silence! tlot-tlot, in the echoing night!Nearer he came and nearer! her face was like a light!Her eyes grew wide for a moment; she drew one last deep breath,Then her finger moved in the moonlight,Her musket shattered the moonlight,Shattered her breast in the moonlight and warned him-with her death.ViiiHe turned; he spurred to the west; he did not know who stoodBowed, with her head oer the musket, drenched with her own red blood!Not till the dawn he heard it, his face grew grey to hearHow bess, the landlords daughter,The landlords black-eyed daughter,Had watched for her love in the moonlight, and died in the darkness there.IxBack, he spurred like a madman, shrieking a curse to the sky,With the white road smoking behind him and his rapier brandished high!Blood-red were his spurs i the golden noon; wine-red was his velvet coat,When they shot him down on the highway,Down like a dog on the highway,And he lay in his blood on the highway, with a bunch of lace at his throat.* * * * * *XAnd still of a winters night, they say, when the wind is in the trees,When the moon is a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,When the road is a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor,A highwayman comes riding-Riding-riding-A highwayman comes riding, up to the old inn-door.XiOver the cobbles he clatters and clangs in the dark inn-yard,And he taps with his whip on the shutters, but all is locked and barred;He whistles a tune to the window, and who should be waiting thereBut the landlords black-eyed daughter,Bess, the landlords daughter,Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair.By alfred noyes and phil ochs------------------------------------------------C emThe wind was a torrent of darknessAmAmong the gusty treesEm fThe moon was a ghostly galleonDm g7Tossed upon cloudy seasC emAnd the road was a ribbon of moonlightAmOver the purple moorF c e amAnd the highwayman came riding, riding, ridingF cYes, the highwayman came ridingDm g7Up to the old inn doorOver the cobbles he clatteredAnd clashed in the darkened yardAnd he tapped with his whip at the windowBut all was locked and barredSo he whistled a tune to the windowAnd who should be waiting thereBut the landlords black eyed daughterBess the landlords daughterPlaiting a dark red love knotInto her long black hairOne kiss, my bonny sweetheartFor Im after a prize tonightBut I shall be back with the yellow goldBefore the morning lightYet if they press me sharplyHarry me through the dayOh, then look for me by moonlightWatch for me by moonlightAnd Ill come to thee by moonlightThough hell should bar the wayHe did not come at the dawningNo, he did not come at the noonAnd out of the tawny sunsetBefore the rise of the moonWhen the road was a gypsys ribbonLooping the purple moorOh a redcoat troop came marching, marching, marchingKing georges men came marchingUp to the old inn doorAnd they bound the landlords daughterWith many a sniggering jestAnd they bound the musket beside herWith the barrel beneath her breastNow keep good watch and they kissed herShe heard the dead man sayOh look for me by moonlightWatch for me by moonlightAnd Ill come to thee by moonlightThough hell should bar the wayLook for me by moonlightHoof beats ringing clearWatch for me by moonlightWere they deaf that they did not hearFor he rode on the gypsy highwayShe breathed one final breathThen her finger moved in the moonlightHer musket shattered the moonlightAnd it shattered her breast in the moonlightAnd warned him with her deathOh he turned; he spurred on to the westHe did not know who stoodOut with her black hair a flowing downDrenched with her own red bloodOh not til the dawn had he heard itAnd his face grew gray to hearHow bess the landlords daughterThe landlords black eyed daughterHad watched for her love in the moonlightAnd died in the darkness thereC emBack he spurred like a madmanAmShrieking a curse to the skyEm fWith the white road smoking behind himDm gAnd his rapier brandished highC emBlood red were his spurs in the golden noonAmWine red his velvet coatF cWhen they shot him down on the highwayE amDown like a dog on the highwayF cAnd he lay in his blood on the highwayF gWith a bunch of lace at his throatAnd still on a winters night they sayWhen the wind is in the treesWhen the moon is a ghostly galleonTossed upon cloudy seasWhen the road is a ribbon of moonlightOver the purple moorOh the highwayman comes riding, riding, ridingYes the highwayman comes ridingUp to the old inn door. /pre>
