Luyện nghe bài hát Montecute

To me, friend,
you can be old.
For as you were, when your eye,
I eyed,
seems you beuaty still.
Three winters cold full forrests shook three summers pride.
Three beautious springs to yellow turned.
In process of the have I seen,
three april perfumes in hot junes burned.
Since first I saw you which later waned.
Ahh, yet doth beauty like a dour
steal from his figure, pace percieved.
So your sweet hue, which me thinks still doth
motion and mine eye may be decieved.
For fear of which, hear this age unbread
air you born was beatious summer dead.