Luyện nghe bài hát Booth Shot Lincoln

John Wilkes came to Washington,
An great was he,
He played at Theater,
And went to see.

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

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

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

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

From the box hangs a flag,
It's not the and Bars,
The that holds within its folds
Bright stripes and stars.

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

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

The wife awakes slumber,
And in her rage,
Booth jumps the railing
And him on the stage.

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

The people all
Then everyone, "A hand!"
all the people near,
"For God's sake, that man!"

Then Booth ran back with and spurs
the backstage 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 those horses feet.

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