The Minstrel Boy (Recorded 1910) - John McCormack

The minstrel boy to the war has gone

In the ranks of death you will find him;

His father’s sword he had 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 heart shall praise thee!»

The minstrel fell but the foeman’s chain

Could not bring that proud soul under;

The harp he loved ne’er spoke again

For he tore its chords asunder;

And said: «No chain shall sully thee

Thou soul of love and bravery!

Thy songs were made for the pure and free

They shall never sound in slavery!»