Luyện nghe bài hát Patrick Sheehan

My name is Patrick Sheehan, and my are thirty-four;
Tipperary is my native place, not far Galtymore;
I of honest parents, but now they're lying low;
many's the pleasant days we spent in the Glen of Aherlow.

My father died; I closed his eyes, outside the cabin
For the landlord and the too, were there the day before,
And my lovin' mother, and my sisters three, also,
Were forced to go with broken hearts, the Glen of Aherlow

For three long months, in search of work, I wandered far and
I then went to the poorhouse to see my mother
The news I heard near broke my heart, but in all my woe,
I blessed the friends who made graves in the Glen of Aherlow.

Bereft of home and and kin, with plenty all around,
I starved within my cabin, and upon the ground;
But cruel as my lot was, I never did know,
Till I joined the army, far away from Aherlow.

"Rouse up there," the corporal, "Ya lazy Irish hound!
Why you hear the bugle, its call to arms to sound? "
I found I had been dreaming of the days long, ago,
And I woke Sebastopol, and not in Aherlow

I tried to find my musket, how I thought the night!
O blessed God! It wasn't dark, it was the daylight!
And when I that I was blind, my tears began to flow,
And I longed for even a pauper's grave in the of Aherlow.

A poor neglected mendicant, I wander Dublin's
My nine months' pension it being out, I beg from all I
As I joined my country's tyrants, my face I can show,
Amongst my old neighbors in the Glen of Aherlow.

So Irish youths, dear countrymen, take heed in what I
For if you join the English ranks, surely rue the day
And you're tempted, a-soldiering to go.
poor blind Sheehan from the Glen of Aherlow.