Luyện nghe bài hát Stewball and Griselda

Come on, you men of sportin' and listen to my story
of the noble Stewball, a gallant racing pony
'Tis also of his rider, who brought ol' Stewball
He's the of the land and he rolls around in clover

Bet on Stewball, my boy, and you might win, oh, win
Bet on Stewball, my boy, and you win

Oh, the horses were all brought out with saddle, whip and bridle
The gentlemen did shout they saw the gallant riders
And some did shout, "Hooray" and the air was with curses
On the mare, Griselda, the lay their purses

Bet on Stewball, my boy, and you might win, oh, win
Bet on Stewball, my boy, and you win

Oh, the trumpet it did sound, and shot off like an arrow
Ol' Stewball scarcely touched the ground, and the goin' it was
Griselda passed him by, and the all did holler
Oh the gray will win the day, and Stewball, he can

Bet on Stewball, my boy, and you might win, oh, win
Bet on Stewball, my boy, and you win

In the middle of the track, up spoke the rider
I fear we must back, that gray is runnin' like a tiger
Up the noble horse, "Ride on, ride on my master
We're only way round the course, and now we'll see who's faster

Bet on Stewball, my boy, and you might win, oh, win
Bet on Stewball, my boy, and you win

And as they did discourse, ol' Stewball flew like
He dashed around the course, and the gray mare she was
Ride on, on, my noble horse for a good two hundred guineas
Your saddle, it be of gold when we pick up our winnings

Bet on Stewball, my boy, and you might win, oh, win
Bet on Stewball, my boy, and you win

Well, past the winning post, Stewball went so handy
And both the horse and rider for sherry, wine and brandy
They drank to that gray mare, the gallant Miss
And to all who their money on the sporting plains of Kildare

Bet on Stewball, my boy, and you might win, oh, win
Bet on Stewball, my boy, and you win

Bet on Stewball, my boy, and you win, oh, you'll win
Bet on Stewball, my boy, and you win