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!" cried the warrior bard   "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 steel   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 brav'ry!   The songs were made for the pure and free   They shall never sound in slavery!      "Land of Song!" cried the warrior bard   "Tho' all the world betrays thee   One sword, at least, thy rights shall guard   One faithful harp shall praise thee!"