Letras
The minstrel boy to the war is 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," said the warrior bard
"Though all the world betrays thee
One sword, at least, by right 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 loved never spoke again
For he tore its chains asunder
And said, "No chains shall sally thee
Thou soul of love and bravery
Thy songs were made for the pure and free
And never sound in slavery"