Luyện nghe bài hát Let The Slave

Let the grinding at the mill run out into the field
Let him look up into the and laugh in the bright air
Let the enchained soul shut up in darkness and in
Whose has never seen a smile in thirty weary years

Rose and look out, his chains are loose, his dungeon are open
And let his wife and children return from the scourge
look behind at every step and believe it is a dream
Singing, the sun has his blackness and has found a fresher morning
And the fair moon in the clear and cloudless night

For is no more
And now the lion and shall cease

For everything that lives is
For that lives is holy
For everything that lives is
For that lives is holy

What is the of experience? Do men buy it for a song?
Or wisdom for a dance in the street? No, it is with the price
Of all a man hath, his house, his wife, his children
Wisdom is sold in the market where none come to buy

And in the withered field where the farmer plows for in vain
It is an thing to triumph in the summer's sun
And in the and to sing on the wagon loaded with corn
It is an easy to talk of patience to the afflicted

To speak the of prudence to the homeless wanderer
To to the hungry raven's cry in wintry season
When the red blood is filled with and with the marrow of lambs

It is an easy to laugh at wrathful elements
To hear the dog at the wintry door
The ox in the house moan
To see a God on every and a blessing on every blast

To hear of love in the thunder storm
destroys our enemies' house
To rejoice in the blight that his field
And the sickness cuts off his children

While our olive and vine and laugh 'round our door
And our children bring fruits and
the groan and the dolor are quite forgotten
And the grinding at the mill
And the captive in chains and the poor in the

And the soldier in the
the shattered bone hath laid him groaning
Among the dead
It is an easy thing to in the tents of prosperity
Thus, could I and thus, rejoice but it is not so with me