The minstrel boy to the war has gone
In the ranks of death you'll find him
His father's sword he hath girded on
And his wild harp slung behind him
Land of Song cried the warrior bard
Should Tho' 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 chain
Could not bring that
proud soul under
The harp he lov'd ne'er spoke again
For he tore its chords asunder
And said No chains shall sully thee
Thou soul of love and brav'ry
Thy songs were made
for the pure and free
They shall never sound in slavery