The Minstrel Boy: Irish Air from Golden Book

The minstrel boy to the war is gone

In the ranks of death you'll find him

His father's sword he has girded on

And his wild harp slung behind him

"Land of song!" said the warrior bold

"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 loved never spoke again

For he tore its chords asunder

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!"