Luyện nghe bài hát When The Moon Is On The Wave

the poem was written by the noble lord (1788 - 1824)

when the is on the wave,
and the in the grass,
and the on the grave,
and the wisp on the
the falling stars are shooting,
and the answer'd are hooting,
and the silent are still
in the of the hill,
my soul be upon thine,
with a and with a sign.

thy slumber may be deep,
yet thy shall not sleep;
there are shades which not vanish,
there are thou canst not banish,
by a to thee unknown,
thou never be alone;
thou art as with a shroud,
art gather'd in a cloud;
and for ever thou dwell
in the of this spell.

though thou seest me not by,
thou feel me with thine eye
as a thing that, unseen,
be near thee, and hath been;
and when in secret dread
thou turn'd around thy head,
thou marvel I am not
as thy on the spot,
and the power which thou dost
be what thou dost feel
shall be what thou conceal.

and a voice and verse
hath baptized with a curse;
and a of the air
hath thee with a snare;
in the wind is a voice
forbid thee to rejoice;
and to shall night deny
all the of her sky;
and the day have a sun,
which shall thee wish it done.

thy false tears I did distil
an essence which hath to kill;
from thy own I then did wring
the blood in its blackest spring;
thy own smile I snatch'd the snake,
for there it as in a brake;
thy own smile I snatch'd the snake,
for it coil'd as in a brake;
thy own lip I drew the the charm
which gave all these chiefest harm;
in proving every known,
I found the strongest was own.

by thy cold breast and smile,
by thy unfathom'd of guile,
by that most seeming eye,
by thy shut hypocrisy;
by the of thine art
which for human thine own heart;
by thy delight in pain,
and by thy of cain,
I upon thee! and compel
to be thy proper hell!

and on thy head I the vial
which doth devote trial;
nor to slumber, nor to die,
be in thy destiny;
though thy shall still seem near
to thy wish, but as a
lo! the spell now around thee,
and the clankless chain hath bound
o'er thy and brain together
hath the been pass'd - now wither!