The Minstrel Boy

The minstrel boy to the war is gone In the ranks of death you'll find him. His father's sword he has girded on His wild harp slung behind him.

"Land of song," sang the warrior bard, "Tho all the world betrays ye, One sword at least thy rights shall guard, One faithful harp shall praise thee."

The minstrel fell, but the foeman's chains could not keep his proud soul under. The harp he bore ne'er spoke again For he tore its cords asunder...

And said "No chains shall sully thee, Thou soul of love and bravery, Thy songs were made for the pure and free, They ne'er shall sound in slavery."