Luyện nghe bài hát The Humors Of The Glen

The of the Glen
(Robert Burns)
groves o' sweet myrtle let Foreign Lands reckon,
Where bright-beaming exalt the perfume,
Far dearer to me yon lone glen o'green
Wi' th'burn stealing under the lang, yellow
Far dearer to me are yon broom bowers,
Where the and gowan lurk, lowly, unseen;
For there, tripping amang the wild flowers,
A listening the linnet, oft my Jean.
Tho' rich is the in their gay, sunny vallies,
And cauld, Caledonia's blast on the
Their woodlands that skirt the proud palace,
What are they ? The haunt tyrant and slave.
The slave's spicy forests, and fountains,
The brave views wi'disdain;
He as free as the winds of his mountains,
Save love's fetters, the chains o'his Jean.
of the Glen (496)
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