The Minstrel Boy

The [D]Minstrel [G]Boy to the [D]war is [G]gone
In the ranks of [D]death you will [A]find [D]him;
His [D]father's [G]sword he hath [D]girded [G]on,
And his wild harp [D]slung be[A]hind [D]him;"
[Bm]Land of [G]Song!" said the [A]warrior [D]bard,
"Tho' [G]all the world be[A]trays [D]thee,
One sword, at [G]least, thy [D]rights shall [G]guard,
One [D]faithful harp shall [A]praise [D]thee!"

The [D]Minstrel [G]fell! But the [D]foeman's [G]chain
Could not [D]bring that proud soul [A]unde[D]r;
The [D]harp he [G]lov'd ne'er [D]spoke a[G]gain,
For he [D]tore its chords [A]asun[D]der;
And [Bm]said "No [G]chains shall [A]sully [D]thee,
Thou [G]soul of love and [A]brav'[D]ry!
Thy songs were [G]made for the [D]pure and [G]free,
They shall [D]never sound in [A]slave[D]ry!"

American Civil War verses added later:

The Minstrel Boy will return we pray

When we hear the news we all will cheer it,

The minstrel boy will return one day,

Torn perhaps in body, not in spirit.

Then may he play on his harp in peace,

In a world such as Heaven intended,

For all the bitterness of man must cease,

And ev'ry battle must be ended.