Luyện nghe bài hát When The Moon Is On The Wave

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

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

though thy may be deep,
yet thy spirit shall not
there are shades will 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 gather'd in a
and for ever thou dwell
in the of this spell.

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

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

from thy false tears I did
an essence which hath strength to
from thy own I then did wring
the black in its blackest spring;
from thy own smile I 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 the the charm
which all these their chiefest harm;
in every poison known,
I found the strongest was own.

by thy cold breast and smile,
by thy unfathom'd of guile,
by that most virtuos eye,
by thy soul's hypocrisy;
by the perfection of art
which pass'd for human thine own
by thy delight in pain,
and by thy of cain,
I call upon thee! and
to be thy proper 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 still seem near
to thy wish, but as a
lo! the now works around thee,
and the clankless hath bound thee;
o'er thy and brain together
the word been pass'd - now wither!