Luyện nghe bài hát Patrick Sheehan

My name is Sheehan, and my years are thirty-four;
Tipperary is my native place, not far Galtymore;
I came of parents, but now they're lying low;
Though' many's the pleasant days we spent in the of Aherlow.

My father I closed his eyes, outside the cabin door;
For the landlord and the sheriff too, there the day before,
And my lovin' mother, and my sisters three, also,
Were forced to go broken hearts, from the Glen of Aherlow

For three long months, in search of work, I far and near;
I then went to the poorhouse to see my mother
The I heard near broke my heart, but still in all my woe,
I blessed the friends who their graves in the Glen of Aherlow.

Bereft of home and kith and kin, plenty all around,
I starved within my cabin, and slept upon the
But as my lot was, I never did hardship know,
Till I joined the English army, far away Aherlow.

"Rouse up there," cried the corporal, "Ya lazy hound!
Why don't you hear the bugle, its call to to sound? "
I I had been dreaming of the days long, long ago,
And I upon Sebastopol, and not in Aherlow

I tried to find my musket, how dark I the night!
O blessed God! It dark, it was the broad daylight!
And I found that I was blind, my tears began to flow,
And I longed for even a grave in the Glen of Aherlow.

A poor neglected mendicant, I wander Dublin's
My nine pension it being out, I beg from all I meet;
As I joined my tyrants, my face I can never show,
my dear old neighbors in the Glen of Aherlow.

So Irish youths, countrymen, take heed in what I say;
For if you join the English ranks, surely rue the day
And you're tempted, a-soldiering to go.
Remember poor Sheehan from the Glen of Aherlow.