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,
"Tho' all the world betrays thee,
One sword, at least, my rights shall guard,
One faithful harp shall save thee!"
The minstrel fell! But the foeman's chains
Could not bring that proud soul under;
The harp he loved ne'er spoke again,
For he tore its chords asunder.
And said "No chains shall sully thee,
Thy soul of song and bravery!
Thy songs were made for the pure and free,
They shall never sound in slavery!"