The [C] minstrel [F] boy to the [C] war [G] has [Am] gone
in the [F] ranks of [C] death you will [Dm] [G] find [C] him
His [C] father's [F] sword he has [C] gir-[G] ded [Am] on
and his [F] wild harp [C] slung be-[Dm] [G] hind [C] him

[Am] "Land [E7] of [Am] Song," said the [G] war-[Adim7] rior [Em] bard
[E7] "Though [Am] all [E7] the [Am] world [E7] be-[Am] [E7] trays [Am] thee,
[Fm] one [C] sword at [F] least thy [C] rights [G] shall [Am] gaurd
[C] one [F] faithful [C] harp shall [Dm] [G] praise [C] thee

The minstrel fell but the foemans chain
could not bring that proud soul under
The harp he loved never spoke again
for he tore its 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!"

Adim7 {x01212}

The melody is an old Irish air called 'The Moreen'. The song was very popular in America in the early days of the nineteenth century.