Luyện nghe bài hát When The Moon Is On The Wave

the poem was written by the lord Byron (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 stars are shooting,
and the answer'd 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 shall not sleep;
there are which will not vanish,
there are thoughts thou not banish,
by a power to unknown,
canst never be alone;
thou art as with a shroud,
art gather'd in a cloud;
and for shalt thou dwell
in the spirit of spell.

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

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

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

by thy cold and serpent smile,
by thy gulfs of guile,
by that most seeming eye,
by thy shut hypocrisy;
by the of thine art
which pass'd for thine own heart;
by thy delight in pain,
and by thy of cain,
I call upon thee! and
thyself to be thy hell!

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