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!" said the warrior bard,
"Tho' all the world be trays thee,
One sword at least thy rights
shall guard,
One faithful harp shall praice thee."