Luyện nghe bài hát Booth Shot Lincoln

John Wilkes Booth to Washington,
An actor was he,
He at Ford's Theater,
And went to see.

It was in April,
Not weeks ago,
The of this fair city
All at the show.

The war it is all over,
The people now,
And Lincoln arose,
Arose to make his

The cheer him wildly,
Arising to feet,
And waving of his hand,
He calmly his seat.

And he sees the play go on,
His thoughts are deep,
His darling wife, by his side,
Has fast asleep.

From the box there a flag,
not the Stars and Bars,
The flag that within its folds
gleaming stripes and stars.

John Wilkes he moves down the aisle,
He had measured before,
He passes bodyguard
at the door.

He holds a dagger in his hand,
A in his left,
He shoots Lincoln in the temple,
And he his soul to rest.

The awakes from slumber,
And in her rage,
jumps over the railing
And him on the stage.

rue the day, he'll rue the hour,
As God him life give,
When stood in that center stage,
Crying, "Tyrants not live!"

The all excited
cried everyone, "A hand!"
Cried all the near,
"For God's sake, save man!"

Then Booth ran back boot and spurs
Across the floor,
He mounts that trusty bank mare,
All at the door.

John Booth, in his last play,
All dressed in deep,
He gallops the alleyway,
I hear horses feet.

Poor then was heard to say,
And all has to rest,
"Of all the actors in town,
I loved the best."