The Minstrel Boy

By Thomas Moore

The Minstrel Boy to the war is gone, In the ranks of death you will find him; His father's sword he hath girded on, And his wild harp slung behind him;

"Land of Song!" said 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 chains Could not bring that proud soul under; The harp he lov'd ne'er spoke again, For he tore its chords asunder;

And said that "No chains shall sully thee, Thou soul of love and bravery! Thy songs were meant for the proud and free They shall never sound in slavery!"

The Minstrel Boy shall return again, when we hear the news we will cheer it. The Minstrel Boy shall return again, torn perhaps in body not in spirit.

And then may he play his harp in peace in a world as heaven hath intended. When all the words of war shall cease and every battle must be ended.

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