Luyện nghe bài hát Stewball

Stewball was a horse
And he a high head
And the on his foretop
Was fine as thread

I rode him in
And I rode him in
And I never did lose,
I always did

So all you gamblers
From and from far
Don't bet your gold
On that little mare

likely she will stumble
Most likely she'll
But you will lose
On my noble

Sit on your saddle
Let slack on rein
And you will lose boys,
You always will

As they a-riding
'Bout 'round
grey mare she stumbled
And to the ground

And out yonder
Ahead of all
Came dancin' and
My noble

Stewball was a horse
And he a high head
And the on his foretop
Was as silk thread

I rode him in
And I him in Spain
And I did lose, boys
I did gain