The Minstrel Boy to the war has gone In the ranks of death you will find him His father's sword he has girded on And his wild harp slung behind him "The land of song," said the warrior bard, "Tho all the world betray thee One sword at least thy ranks shall guard One faithful harp shall praise thee" The minstrel fell but the foreman's chain Could not bring his proud sould under The harp he loved never spoke again For he tore it's chords asunder He said, "No chains shall sully thee. The soul of love and bravery Thy songs were made for the pure and free They shall never sound in slavery!"