Luyện nghe bài hát Little Joe

Mother, will Thomas, the old gardener say
you ask him for flowers for me?
Will he give you a rose he has with care?
The fairest, fairest broom on the

What will the birds do, mother, in the
Will they gather the crumbs around our
Will they fly the trees and tap at my window
why Joe wanders out no more?

What will the do, mother, all alone?
Will he stop his frolic for a day?
he lie on the rug by the side of my bed
As he did before I away?

I've tears come in his honest eyes
But he said it was the wind that 'em there
As he gazed on my cheeks growing everyday
His hand trembled my hair

Keep Tag, mother, my poor dog
I know he mourn for me too
him in old and unless he grows
Sleeping all along through

Show him my coat, mother, so he'll not
His master will be dead
Speak to him and often of Joe
Pat him on his shaggy head

And you, mother dear, may you miss me for a
But in no larger I grow
And any kind angel will the gate
When you ask for your Little Joe

And any kind will open the gate
When you ask for darling Little Joe