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Now this requires its own posting. This Irish rebel song depends in considerable measure on its delivery for its effect. Off the top of my head, I think the author was Thomas Moore, but I could be mistook.
The minstrel boy to the war is 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
"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 that proud soul under.
The harp he loved ne'er spoke again,
For he tore its corse 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!"
(Repeating the last four lines rallentando and pił forte makes a good finish)
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Wanna stop school shootings? End Gun-Free Zones, of course.
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