Luyện nghe bài hát When The Moon Is On The Wave

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

the moon is on the wave,
and the in the grass,
and the on the grave,
and the on the morass
when the falling are shooting,
and the answer'd are hooting,
and the silent leaves are
in the of the hill,
shall my be upon thine,
with a power and a sign.

though thy may be deep,
yet thy shall not sleep;
there are which will not vanish,
are thoughts thou canst not banish,
by a to thee unknown,
canst never be alone;
thou art as with a shroud,
thou art gather'd in a
and for ever shalt thou
in the spirit of spell.

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

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

thy false tears I did distil
an essence which hath to kill;
from thy own heart I then did
the black blood in its spring;
from thy own I snatch'd the snake,
for it coil'd 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 their chiefest
in proving every known,
I found the was thine 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 pass'd for human own heart;
by thy delight in pain,
and by thy of cain,
I upon thee! and compel
thyself to be thy hell!

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