|
D A D
The minstrel boy to the war has gone.
G D A D
In the ranks of death you will find him.
A D
His father's sword he has girded on
G D A D
And his wild harp slung behind him.
Bm A G A G A D
"Land of song," said the warrior bard,
G A D
"Though all the world betray thee,
A D
One sword at least thy roads shall guard,
G A D
One faithDful heart shall praise thee."
The minstrel fell, but the foeman's chain
Could not bring that proud soul under.
The harp he loved never spoke again,
For he tore its cords asunder,
And said, "No chain shall sully thee
Thou soul of love and bravery.
My songs remain for the pure and free.
They shall never sound in slavery."
|
|
