Luyện nghe bài hát Patrick Sheehan

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

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

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

Bereft of and kith and kin, with plenty all around,
I starved my cabin, and slept upon the ground;
But as my lot was, I never did hardship know,
I joined the English 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 upon Sebastopol, and not in

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

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

So youths, dear countrymen, take heed in what I say;
For if you join the ranks, you'll surely rue the day
And whenever tempted, a-soldiering to go.
Remember poor blind from the Glen of Aherlow.