The pulse of an Irishman, WoO 154 No.4

The pulse of an Irishman, WoO 154 No.4 Lyrics

Song The pulse of an Irishman, WoO 154 No.4
Artist Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau
Album Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau: Recordings from the Archives
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[00:00.000] 作词 : Sir Alexander Boswell
[00:01.000] 作曲 : Ludwig van Beethoven
[00:11.21] The pulse of an Irishman ever beats quicker,
[00:13.45] whan war is the story, or love is the theme;
[00:16.08] and place him where bullets fly thicker and thicker,
[00:18.66] you'll find him all cowardice scorning.
[00:21.52] And tho' a ball should maim poor Darby,
[00:23.85] light at the heart he rallies on:
[00:26.26] "Fortune is cruel, but Norah, my jewel,
[00:28.99] is kind, and with smiling, all sorrow beguiling,
[00:31.74] shall bid from our cabin all care to be gone,
[00:33.85] and how they will jig it, and tug at the spigot,
[00:36.92] an Patrick's day in the mornin'."
[01:03.71] O blest by the land in the wide western waters,
[01:06.04] sweet Erin, lov'd Erin, the pride of my song;
[01:08.21] still brave be the sons, and still fair be the daughters
[01:11.08] thy meads and thy mountains adorning!
[01:13.46] And tho' the eastern sun seems tardy,
[01:16.13] tho' the pure light of knowledge slow,
[01:18.57] night and delusion, and darkling confusion
[01:21.30] like mists from the river shall vanish for ever,
[01:23.85] and true Irish hearts with warm loyalty glow;
[01:26.19] and proud exaltation burst forth from the nation
[01:28.81] on Patrick's day in the mornin'.
[00:00.000] zuo ci : Sir Alexander Boswell
[00:01.000] zuo qu : Ludwig van Beethoven
[00:11.21] The pulse of an Irishman ever beats quicker,
[00:13.45] whan war is the story, or love is the theme
[00:16.08] and place him where bullets fly thicker and thicker,
[00:18.66] you' ll find him all cowardice scorning.
[00:21.52] And tho' a ball should maim poor Darby,
[00:23.85] light at the heart he rallies on:
[00:26.26] " Fortune is cruel, but Norah, my jewel,
[00:28.99] is kind, and with smiling, all sorrow beguiling,
[00:31.74] shall bid from our cabin all care to be gone,
[00:33.85] and how they will jig it, and tug at the spigot,
[00:36.92] an Patrick' s day in the mornin'."
[01:03.71] O blest by the land in the wide western waters,
[01:06.04] sweet Erin, lov' d Erin, the pride of my song
[01:08.21] still brave be the sons, and still fair be the daughters
[01:11.08] thy meads and thy mountains adorning!
[01:13.46] And tho' the eastern sun seems tardy,
[01:16.13] tho' the pure light of knowledge slow,
[01:18.57] night and delusion, and darkling confusion
[01:21.30] like mists from the river shall vanish for ever,
[01:23.85] and true Irish hearts with warm loyalty glow
[01:26.19] and proud exaltation burst forth from the nation
[01:28.81] on Patrick' s day in the mornin'.
[00:00.000] zuò cí : Sir Alexander Boswell
[00:01.000] zuò qǔ : Ludwig van Beethoven
[00:11.21] The pulse of an Irishman ever beats quicker,
[00:13.45] whan war is the story, or love is the theme
[00:16.08] and place him where bullets fly thicker and thicker,
[00:18.66] you' ll find him all cowardice scorning.
[00:21.52] And tho' a ball should maim poor Darby,
[00:23.85] light at the heart he rallies on:
[00:26.26] " Fortune is cruel, but Norah, my jewel,
[00:28.99] is kind, and with smiling, all sorrow beguiling,
[00:31.74] shall bid from our cabin all care to be gone,
[00:33.85] and how they will jig it, and tug at the spigot,
[00:36.92] an Patrick' s day in the mornin'."
[01:03.71] O blest by the land in the wide western waters,
[01:06.04] sweet Erin, lov' d Erin, the pride of my song
[01:08.21] still brave be the sons, and still fair be the daughters
[01:11.08] thy meads and thy mountains adorning!
[01:13.46] And tho' the eastern sun seems tardy,
[01:16.13] tho' the pure light of knowledge slow,
[01:18.57] night and delusion, and darkling confusion
[01:21.30] like mists from the river shall vanish for ever,
[01:23.85] and true Irish hearts with warm loyalty glow
[01:26.19] and proud exaltation burst forth from the nation
[01:28.81] on Patrick' s day in the mornin'.
The pulse of an Irishman, WoO 154 No.4 Lyrics
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