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 on the morass
the falling stars are shooting,
and the answer'd are hooting,
and the leaves are still
in the of the hill,
shall my soul be thine,
with a power and a sign.

though thy may be deep,
yet thy spirit not sleep;
there are shades which not vanish,
there are thou canst not banish,
by a power to unknown,
thou canst never be
thou art wrapt as a shroud,
thou art in a cloud;
and for ever shalt thou
in the spirit of spell.

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

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

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

by thy cold breast and smile,
by thy unfathom'd of guile,
by most seeming virtuos eye,
by thy shut soul's
by the perfection of art
pass'd for human thine own heart;
by thy delight in pain,
and by thy of cain,
I call thee! and compel
to be thy proper hell!

and on thy head I pour the
doth devote this trial;
nor to slumber, nor to die,
shall be in thy
though thy death still seem near
to thy wish, but as a
lo! the spell now works thee,
and the chain hath bound thee;
o'er thy heart and brain
hath the word been - now wither!