The Minstrel Boy
Thomas MooreOriginale | Al Baker's version |
THE MINSTREL BOY 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 chain Could not bring that proud soul under; The harp he lov'd ne'er spoke again, For he tore its chords asunder; And said "No chains shall sully thee, Thou soul of love and brav'ry! Thy songs were made for the pure and free They shall never sound in slavery! | THE MINSTREL BOY The minstrel boy to the war is gone, with a righteous fire inside him A singer born, now a soldier grown, with his wild harp slung behind him Though eyes as brown as his turn red, and beauty falls around him Our nation's sacred flag, 'tis said, will be sigh enough to rouse him That boy, this day on his sick bed lay, 'twas his nightmares dragged him under The harp he loved ne'er spoke again, For he tore it's 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 For years he fought, but ne'er once played a refrain of faith or freedom And grew to loathe that master's name which denied him love and reason Though songs may pierce more hearts than steel, 'twould in his mind be treason His silent rage at deaths in vain could fain destroy all nations 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 Thy songs were made for the pure and free They shall never sound in slavery.. |