Luyện nghe bài hát Lorelei

Faerie dearest, was it loe soothfast or a
A serenade to lure - Zounds! not to court me?
A maenad, yet the colleen -
Certes thou me unveil meekly life pristine.
Lorelei,
A poet of tragedies, scribe I to Death,
Yet who the was I to dare?
Lorelei,
Canst thou not see to me needful art?
Canst not see the loss of loe painful is?
Daedally thou perform the tragic pasquinade,
For all years a damndest and driegh'd -
Caus'd for all eyes mazed to behold a
In the midst did I swainly cast my bouquet;
The one and sole faggot feedeth the fire,
Bellow'd by my heart's quailing quire.
Lorelei,
A poet of tragedies, scribe I to Death,
Yet who the hell was I to
Lorelei,
Canst thou not see thou to me needful
Canst thou not see the loss of loe is?
Perchance author I thee this ikon'd for aught,
the wecht burthen thee?, then bethink thine afterthought;
'Tween Aether and art thou peerless phoenix -
Prithee, darlingmost! - court me rather the peevish prolix.