Luyện nghe bài hát When The Moon Is On The Wave

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

the moon is on the wave,
and the in the grass,
and the on the grave,
and the wisp on the
when the falling are shooting,
and the owls are hooting,
and the leaves 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 spirit shall not
there are shades which not vanish,
there are thoughts thou not banish,
by a to thee unknown,
thou canst never be
thou art as with a shroud,
art gather'd in a cloud;
and for ever thou dwell
in the spirit of spell.

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

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

from thy tears I did distil
an which hath strength to kill;
from thy own I then did wring
the black blood in its blackest
from thy own I snatch'd the snake,
for there it coil'd as in a
thy own smile I snatch'd the snake,
for there it coil'd as in a
thy own lip I drew the the charm
which gave all their chiefest harm;
in every poison known,
I the strongest was thine own.

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

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