The Minstrel Boy to the war has gone In the ranks of death you will find him His father's sword he hath girded on And his wild harp slung behind him
"Land of Song!" said the warrior bard "Though all the world betrays thee One sword, at least, thy rights shall guard One faithful harp shall praise thee!"
The Minstrel fell, but the foeman's chains Could not bring this proud soul under The harp he loved never spoke again For he tore its chords asunder
And said, "No chains shall sully thee Thou soul of love and bravery! Thy songs were made for the pure and free And shall never sound in slavery!"