G        C          G      C 
The minstrel boy to the war is gone, 
       G        Em            D    G 
In the ranks of death ye will find him; 
    G        C             G      C 
His father's sword he hath girded on, 
        G         Em    D      G 
And his wild harp slung behind him; 
Em       C               D         G 
"Land of Song!" said the warrior bard, 
      C       Em       C   D 
"Tho' all the world betray thee, 
    G         C          G            C 
One sword, at least, thy rights shall guard, 
    G        Em         D      G 
One faithful harp shall praise thee!"