The Minstrel Boy has gone to war,
In the ranks* of death you will find him;
His father's sword he put around his waist,
And his ambitious harp slung on his back;
"Land of Song!" said the warrior-singer,
"Though all the world is against you,
One sword, at least will protect your rights*,
One trustworthy harp shall sing the good of you!"
The Minstrel died! He was not a shackled prisoner
Nor could they break his proud spirit (soul);
The harp he loved never played music again
Because he tore all its strings out;
And he said "No chains shall defile you.
No song of love, and bravery (by the enemy).
Your songs were made for the pure and free,
And never will be heard in slavery (oppression).
"Land of Song!" said the warrior-singer,
"Though all the world is against you,
One sword, at least will protect your rights*,
One trustworthy harp shall sing the good of you!"
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The Minstrel Boy we pray (hope) will return.
When we hear the news we all will cheer it,
The Minstrel Boy will return one day,
His body may be wounded, but not his beliefs,
Then may he play his harp in peace,
In a world such as heaven intended (tranquil),
For all the bitterness of man must stop,
And every battle must be ended.