Luyện nghe bài hát Van Diemen's Land

Come all you gallant poachers who void of care,
Who wander out on a moonlit night your dog, your gun and snare,
The hare and pheasant you have at your command,
Not thinking of long career spend on Van Dieman's land.

Poor Thomas Brown from Nenagh town, John and Poor Joe,
Where determined poachers, the country well does know,
By the of the land, one night, at last they were trepanned,
And for fourteen years transported unto Van Land.

The first day that we landed upon that shore,
The planters around us, they might be twenty score,
They ranked us off like horses and us out of hand,
yoked us to a plough, brave boys, to plough Van Dieman's Land.

Often when I slumber, I a pleasant dream,
I 'm lying on the cold green grass down by purling stream,
Oh, wondering through the maid of with my sweetheart by the hand,
Then I awaken upon Van Dieman's Land.

Fourteen years is a long long time, is our fatal doom,
For nothing more the poaching got no all so we done,
You give up dog, gun and snare and the poaching, man
If you only knew the hardship upon Van Land.