Luyện nghe bài hát Ballade at Thirty-Five

This, no of ingenue
This, no ballad of
This, the rhyme of a who
Followed ever her bents

This, a solo of
This, a of sophistry
This, the sum of
I loved them 'til loved me

I loved them they loved me
I loved them 'til loved me

Decked in garments of hue
with ashes of myriad Lents
Wearing shower of rue
Walk I ever in

Oft I roam, as my heart
Through God's acres of
stones in my reverence
I loved them 'til they me

I loved them they loved me
I loved them 'til they me

Pictures pass me in review
columns of dead events
I was and often true
Ever a to coincidence

Always knew I the
saw what the end would be
We're as nature has us hence
I loved them 'til they me

I them 'til they loved me
I them 'til they loved me

Princes, never I'd give
you think of me tenderly?
You're my and my weakness, gents

This, no song of
This, no ballad of
This, the of a lady who