The minstrel boy to the war has gone;
|
In the ranks of death you will find him
|
His father's sword he has girded on,
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And his wild harp slung behind him;
|
|
"Land of song!" cried the warrior bard,
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"Though all the world betrays thee,
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One sword, at least, thy rights shall guard,
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One faithful harp shall praise thee!"
|
|
The minstrel fell! But the foeman's sword
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Couldn't bring that proud soul under;
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The harp he loved never spoke again,
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For he tore its cords asunder;
|
|
He said, "No chain shall sully thee,
|
No restraint shall taint your bravery!
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My songs were made for the young and free,
|
They shall never sound in slavery!"
|
|
The minstrel boy to the war has gone
|
In the ranks of death you will find him
|
His father's sword he has girded on
|
And his wild harp slung behind him
|
|
He said, "No chain shall sully thee
|
No restraint shall taint your bravery
|
My songs were made by the young and free
|
They shall never sound in slavery!"
|
|
-----------------
|
Minstrel Boy
|
| Enter The Haggis |
