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The Minstrel boy to the war has gone in the ranks of death you will find him. His fathers sword he has girded on and his wild harp slung behind him. Land of song said the warrior bard tough all the world betray thee. One sword at least thy right shall guard one faithful harp shall praise thee. |
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The Minstrel fell! - but the foeman's chain could not bring his proud soul under. The harp he lov'd ne'er spoke again for he tore its chords assunder. And said: "No chains shall sully thee thou soul of love and bravery! Thy songs were made for the pure and free, they shall never sound in slavery". |
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