THE MINSTREL BOY THOMAS MOORE 1779-1852 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 clouds 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.’