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IRISH SONGS AND LYRICS 171 |
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THE MINSTREL-BOY
THE Minstrel-Boy to the war has gone, In the ranks of death you'll find him ; His father's sword he has girded on, And his wild harp slung behind him.— " Land of song ! " said the warrior bard,
"Though all the world betrays thee, One sword, at least, thy rights shall guard, One faithful harp shall praise thee ! "
The Minstrel fell!—but the foeman's chain
Could not bring his proud soul under; The harp he loved ne'er spoke again,
For he tore its chords asunder; And said, " No chains shall sully thee,
Thou soul of love and bravery ! Thy songs were made for the pure and free,
They shall never sound in slavery." |
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THE SONG OF FIONNUALA
SILENT, O Moyle, be the roar of thy water, Break not, ye breezes, your chain of repose, While, murmuring mournfully, Lir's lonely daughter Tells to the night-star her tale of woes. When shall the swan, her death-note singing,
Sleep, with wings in darkness furled ? When will heaven, its sweet bells ringing, Call my spirit from this stormy world ? |
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