Luyện nghe bài hát The Irish Stranger

Pity the fate of a Irish stranger,
That so far from his home,
That sighs for protection want, woe, and danger,
That knows not from way for to roam.
Yet I'll never return to green bowers,
For tramples the sweetest of flowers,
That once gave me comfort in hours
Now they are gone I ne'er see them more.

With I gazed on yon lofty building,
As in grandeur I from its lord,
But soon I my fair garden yielding
The choicest of for his foe.
But, is my father's lone cottage of clay,
Wherein I' ve spent a long day,
Alas ! has his conniv'd it away ?
Yes, it is gone, I shall see it more.

nature was seen in the sloe bush and bramble,
All smiling in bloom,
Over the fields without danger, I
Did ramble amidst their ;
I have wranged the woods where the gay feather'd

Joyfully sung loud echoing song
These days then of passed sweetly along,
Now they're goneI ne'er see them more !

the sloe and the berries hung ripe on the bushes
I have gathered them off without
I have gone to the field and shorn the rushes,
Preparing for winter's cold !
Along my friends telling tales of delight,
Beguiling the hours of the long night,
Those days gave me pleasureI could invite ;
Now they're gone, I ne'er see them more.

Oh, Erin ! oh, Erin ! it me to ponder
The wrongs of thy injurned !
Of thy may a thousand from home do wander
On shores far away an !
But give me the power to the main,
might yield me some shelter from pain,
I am lamenting whilst here I remain,
For the boys I ne'er see again.