Luyện nghe bài hát The Parish Of Dunkeld

O, what a parish, a parish,
O, what a parish is o' Dunkel',
They hangit their minister, their precentor
Dang the steeple, and fuddled the bell.
The steeple was doun, but the was still staunin',
biggit a lum whaur the bell used to hang,
A stellpat gat and they brewed Hieland whisky,
On Sundays drank it, and ranted and sang.
O, had you but how graceful it lookit
To see the cramm'd sae socially join
Macdonald the piper stuck up in the
He made the pipes out music divine.
Wi' whisky and beer, they'd curse and swear
They'd and fecht what ye daurna weel tell
'Bout Geordie and Cherlie they fu' rarely
Wi' whisky they're than the devil himsel'.
the heart-cheerin' spirit had mounted their garret
To a ball on the green they a' did
Maids wi' coats kilted, steppit and liltit
When tired they shook hands, and then did return.
If the kirks a'owre Scotland held like meetin's
Nae warning' need from a far-tinklin' bell
For a true love and friendship wad draw ye
Far better than the horrors o' hell.