Luyện nghe bài hát The Green Fields of America (or Canada)

Farewell to the groves of and the shamrock
Farewell to the girls of old Ireland all
And may their hearts be as merry as ever they wish for
As far o'er the ocean I'm bound

My father is old and my mother's right
To leave their own country, it would grieve their sore
Oh, the tears down their cheeks, in great floods are rolling
To think that I must die upon some far and shore

But what to me, where my bones they may lie buried
If in peace and I can spend my life
The green fields of Amerikay, daily are calling
It's there I'll an end to my misery and strife

So pack up your sea now, consider it no longer
Ten dollars a isn't very bad pay
no taxes or tithe there to devour up your wages
Across on the green fields of

The dams are gone and the looms are lying idle
Gone are the winders of and creels
And away o'er the ocean, go journeyman
And fiddlers who play out the old mountain

Ah, but I mind the when old Ireland was flourishing
And of her tradesmen did work for good pay
Ah, but our manufacturers have crossed the Atlantic
Well, it's now I must follow onto Amerikay

And now to conclude and to finish my
If e'er a Irishman should happen my way
the best in the house, I will greet him and welcome him
At home on the green fields of

So pack up sea stores now, consider it no longer
Ten dollars a week very bad pay
With no taxes or tithe to devour up your wages
on the green fields of Amerikay