Luyện nghe bài hát The Bolt Of Cupid Felt

Music:
Hertrich
When fourty nights shall Your brow
and dig deep wounds in Your now
Your youth's livery so gazed on me
tomorrow will be darkened
how a bird lies tangled in a net
Pure shame and awed resistance made him
So in her arms the favoured lies
She more beaty in his varied eyes
Cut is the branch might be grown
with Your faith, the treasure of Your days
Then being where all Your beaty lies
I say it to deep-sunken eyes
"As if the dead the living exceed,
by heavens heart and hand"
He burns with shame
She her tears does quench the maiden
off her cheeks
Then her windy sighs and golden hands
to fain and them dry again she seeks
Look how a painter would surpass his
His art with nature's at strife
In out a well-proportioned steed
as if the dead the living should