The Minstrel Boy- to the war is gone in the rank of death- you'll- find him His father's sword- he has girded on and his wild harp slung- be-hind 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 forman's chain could not bring his proud- sail- under The Harp he loved- ne'er spoke again for he tore it's chords- a-sunder
And said No chains shall- sully thee, Thou soul of love and bravery. Thy songs were made for the pure and the free, They- shall never sound- in- slavery
