The Minstrel Boy

 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-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 foeman's chain 
Could not bring his proud soul under; 
The harp he loved ne'er 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.
"

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