Song 54: "Nothing Left" - Brown Bird

There's nothing left of this day
There's nothing left of this town
Our time has ceased with such sorrow
There's no one left here to mourn
There's nothing left of this day

Outside there cry wolves in the night
Dark with their howls all around
We'll just lie here clothed in our sheepskin
Trying to pretend there's no harm

It's a cold twist confined
To the courage of a catalytic heart and mind
Over God's cry and goat's god's goodbye
And I am bloodying the garment
Of a ghost inside
Making damn sure the body doesn't die

Song 53: "A la huelga"

Workers, to the strike!
Do not go to work
Leave the tool alone
Because it is time to fight

Ten, to the strike!
A hundred, to the strike!
To the strike, mother,
I am going, too.
A hundred, to the strike!
A thousand, to the strike!
I go for them, mother,
And they go for me.

Against the government of hunger
We are going to rise up
All of the workers
Elbow to elbow for bread

From the pit and the field
From the wheel and the loom
All the town will go
To the general strike

All the people of the world
Will give a helping hand
To return to Spain
Her lost liberty

A la huelga compañeros
No vayáis a trabajar
Dejad quieta la herramienta
Que es la hora de luchar.

A la huelga diez,
A la huelga cien,
A la huelga, madre,
Yo voy también.
A la huelga cien,
A la huelga mil,
Yo por ellos, madre,
Y ellos por mí.

Contra el gobierno del hambre
Nos vamos a levantar
Todos los trabajadores
Codo a codo por el pan

Desde el pozo y la besana
Desde el torno y el telar
Irá el pueblo entero
A la huelga general

Todos los pueblos del mundo
La mano nos van a dar
Para devolver a España
Su perdida libertad.

Song 52: "El pampino" - Atahualpa Yupanqui

The pampa kills from below;
the sun punishes from above.
The pampa kills from below;
the sun punishes from above.
And between the sun, pampa and saltpeter,
the poor man gains his livelihood.
The poor man gains his livelihood.

Pampino of the strong hand,
always bullfighting destiny.
A man who lowers his head,
he is not a true pampino.
He is not a true pampino.

I show myself naked to the wind,
so that it learns from me.
I show myself naked to the wind,
so that it learns from me.
They have told me the wind cries
and I like to laugh.
They have told me the wind cries
and I like to laugh.

Pampino of the strong hand,
always bullfighting destiny.
A man who lowers his head,
he is not a true pampino.
He is not a true pampino.

The saltpeter goes far away:
the vapour takes it away.
The saltpeter goes far away:
the vapour takes it away.
nd the pampino remains alone
between the pampa and the sun.
nd the pampino remains alone
between the pampa and the sun.

he pampa kills from below;
the sun punishes from above.
The pampa kills from below;
the sun punishes from above.
nd between the sun, pampa and saltpeter,
the poor man gains his livelihood.
The poor man gains his livelihood.

La pampa mata de abajo;
el sol castiga de arriba.
La pampa mata de abajo;
el sol castiga de arriba.
Y entre sol, pampa y salitre,
se gana el pobre la vida.
Se gana el pobre la vida.

Pampino de mano fuerte,
siempre toreando al destino.
Hombre que baja la frente,
nada tiene de pampino.
Nada tiene de pampino.

Me muestro desnudo al viento,
para que aprenda de mí.
Me muestro desnudo al viento,
para que aprenda de mí.
Me han dicho que el viento llora
y a mi me gusta reir.
Me han dicho que el viento llora
y a mi me gusta reir.

Pampino de mano fuerte,
siempre toreando al destino.
Hombre que baja la frente,
nada tiene de pampino.
Nada tiene de pampino.

El salitre se va lejos:
lo va llevando un vapor.
El salitre se va lejos:
lo va llevando un vapor.
Y el pampino queda solo
entre la pampa y el sol.
Y el pampino queda solo
entre la pampa y el sol.

La pampa mata de abajo;
el sol castiga de arriba.
La pampa mata de abajo;
el sol castiga de arriba.
Y entre sol, pampa y salitre,|
se gana el pobre la vida.
Se gana el pobre la vida.

Song 51: "Mañana Song"

There are many words in Spanish
That we would like to know.
Dictionaries there are scarce as
Roses in the snow.
But there is one word in Spanish
You never ought to miss.
So listen carefully and you will find
That it is this:

Mañana, mañana - that old familiar cry
Mañana, mañana - we'll hear it 'till we die

When will the kitchen have in stock
Grapefruit or banana?
Cook shakes his head and whispers lone
The magic word: "Mañana"
"Mañana si, ahora no. No tengo cambio.
Regancha, regancha, regancha. No hay, no hay, no hay."
Yo comprendo. Yo entiendo.
Hablo, hables, habla. Hablemo, habláis, hablan.

Song 50: "Ol' Man River" - from Showboat

Dere's an ol' man called de Mississippi
Dat's de ol' man dat I'd like to be!
What does he care if de world's got troubles?
What does he care if de land ain't free?

Ol' man river,
Dat ol' man river
He mus'know sumpin'
But don't say nuthin',
He jes'keeps rollin'
He keeps on rollin' along.

He don' plant taters,
He don't plant cotton,
An' dem dat plants'em
is soon forgotten,
But ol'man river,
He jes keeps rollin'along.

You an'me, we sweat an' strain,
Body all achin' an' rack'd wid pain,
Tote dat barge!
Lif' dat bale!
Git a little drunk
An' you land in jail.

Ah gits weary
An' sick of tryin'
Ah'm tired of livin'
An' skeered of dyin',
But ol' man river,
He jes'keeps rolling' along.

Colored folks work on de Mississippi,
Colored folks work while de white folks play,
Pullin' dose boats from de dawn to sunset,
Gittin' no rest till de judgement day.

Don't look up
An' don't look down,
You don' dast make
De white boss frown.
Bend your knees
An'bow your head,
An' pull date rope
Until you' dead.

Let me go 'way from the Mississippi,
Let me go 'way from de white man boss;
Show me dat stream called de river Jordan,
Dat's de ol' stream dat I long to cross.

O' man river,
Dat ol' man river,
He mus'know sumpin'
But don't say nuthin'
He jes' keeps rollin'
He keeps on rollin' along.

Long ol' river forever keeps rollin' on…
He don' plant tater,
He don' plant cotton,
An' dem dat plants 'em
Is soon forgotten,
but ol' man river,
He jes' keeps rollin' along.

Song 49: "El arriero va" - Atahualpa Yupanqui

The twisters dance on the sand
the sun plays on the shine of the rock scree
and tightly held by the magic of the trail
the muleteer goes, the muleteer goes

His cape is a flag of fog in the wind
the flutes of the grasslands greet him
and strutting along the hill roads
the muleteer goes, the muleteer goes

The sorrows and the calves,
they follow the same trail;
The sorrows and the calves,
they follow the same trail;
the sorrows are ours
the calves are someone else's,
the sorrows are ours
the calves are someone else's.

A slaughtering of the suns is shown by the afternoon
the lights of the rock scree have gone to sleep,
and encouraging the troop, let's go, let's go!
the muleteer goes, the muleteer goes

Hopefully the night will bring back memories,
that will make loneliness less heavy,
like a shadow in a shadow through those hills,
the muleteer goes, the muleteer goes

The sorrows and the calves,
they follow the same trail;
The sorrows and the calves,
they follow the same trail;
the sorrows are ours
the calves are someone else's,
the sorrows are ours
the calves are someone else's.

And tightly held by the magic of the trail
the muleteer goes, the muleteer goes

En las arenas bailan los remolinos
el sol juega en el brillo del pedregal
y prendido a la magia de los caminos
el arriero va, el arriero va... 

Es bandera de niebla su poncho al viento
lo saludan las flautas del pajonal
y guapeando la senda por esos cerros, 
el arriero va, el arriero va...

Las penas y las vaquitas, 
se van por la misma senda; 
Las penas y las vaquitas, 
se van por la misma senda; 
las penas son de nosotros
las vaquitas son ajenas
las penas son de nosotros
las vaquitas son ajenas. 

Un degüello de soles muestra la tarde, 
se han dormido las luces del pedregal, 
y animando a la tropa, dale que dale
el arriero va, el arriero va... 

Ojalá que la noche traiga recuerdos, 
que haga menos pesada la soledad, 
como sombra en la sombra por esos cerros, 
el arriero va, el arriero va... 

Las penas y las vaquitas, 
se van por la misma senda; 
Las penas y las vaquitas, 
se van por la misma senda; 
las penas son de nosotros
las vaquitas son ajenas
las penas son de nosotros
las vaquitas son ajenas.

Y prendido la magia de los caminos, 
el arriero va, el arriero va....

Song 48: "The Bay of Suvla" - The Dreadnoughts

Plucked from the finest of hamlets and dales
from Sydney and Bristol and Yorkshire we hail
riding the finest of summertime gales
we’re bound for the Bay of Suvla

and it’s away, Suvla Bay
Haulin’ away to the Suvla Bay
Fare thee well my pretty young maids
We’re bound for the Bay of Suvla

our wake it is bursting right over the pier
the engines do carry this bold chevalier
to face the brave Abdul Abulbul Amir
we’re bound for the Bay of Suvla

and it's haul ‘er straight over and hard to the right
the waters are clear and the sand it is white
old Mr. Stopford will set us alight
we’re bound for the Bay of Suvla

well the wind it is fair and the stars have aligned
we'll sell our salt cod for sweet olives and wine
and string up the Kaiser by thanksgiving time
we’re bound for the Bay of Suvla!

Song 47: "El árbol que tú olvidaste" - Atahualpa Yupanqui

The tree that you forgot
always remembers you,
and it asks the night
if you are or not happy.

The stream has told me
that the tree usually says:
"Whomever leaves collects sadness
instead of staying here."

To the one who goes through the world
tends to happen this trend.
The heart goes with them,
and one has to suffer,
and the tree that you forgot
always remembers you.

Dear tree of my land
I would like to say to you:
"All that happens to everyone else
has also happened to me."

I don't want them to tell me
but I have to hear it:
"Whomever leaves collects sadness
instead of staying here."

To the one who goes through the world
tends to happen this trend.
The heart goes with them,
and one has to suffer,
and the tree that you forgot
always remembers you.

El árbol que tú olvidaste
siempre se acuerda de ti,
y le pregunta a la noche
si serás o no feliz.

El arroyo me ha contado
que el árbol suele decir:
quien se aleja junta quejas
en vez de quedarse aquí.

Al que se va par el mundo
suele sucederle así.
Que el corazón va con uno
y uno tiene que sufrir,
y el árbol que tú olvidaste
siempre se acuerda de ti.

Arbolito de mi tierra
yo te quisiera decir
que lo que a muchos les pasa
también me ha pasado a mi.

No quiero que me lo digan
pero lo tengo que oír:
quien se aleja junta quejas
en vez de quedarse aquí.

Al que se va par el mundo
suele sucederle así.
Que el corazón va con uno
y uno tiene que sufrir,
y el árbol que tú olvidaste
siempre se acuerda de ti.

Song 46: "Solringen" - Wardruna

The sun wheeled in its ring, the summer she sent
Roosters crowing waking songs for elves in the meadow

Strength in the body
The sun wheeled in its ring, the summer she sent
Roosters crowing waking songs for elves in the meadow

Growth in the earth

Roosters crowing, magic growing
Norns spinning, fates binding
Gods crying, wolves howling
Ravens shouting, giants sleeping
Shadows threatening, barley swaying
Fields growing, sun shining
Wolves hunting, sun fleeing
Roosters crowing, magic growing

Sola gjekk i ringen, sumaren sende
Hanar galar rismål for alvar i enga

Sola gjekk i ringen, sumaren sende
Hanar galar rismål for alvar i enga

Avl i bringa
Sola gjekk i ringen, sumaren sende
Hanar galar rismål for alvar i enga

Avl i jordi
[x3]

Sola gjekk i ringen, sumaren sende
Hanar galar rismål for alvar i enga

Hanar galande, galdrar groande
Nornar spinnande, lagnadar bindande
Gudar gråntande, ulvar ulande
ravnar ropande, risar sovande
Skuggar truande, aksen duvande
åkre veksande, soli skinande
ulvar jagande soli flyktande
Hanar galande, galdrar groande

Sola gjekk i ringen, sumaren sende
Hanar galar rismål for alvar i enga

Avl i bringa
Sola gjekk i ringen, sumaren sende
Hanar galar rismål for alvar i enga

Avl i jordi

Sola gjekk i ringen, sumaren sende
Hanar galar rismål for alvar i enga

Song 45: "Song for the Rain" - Emanuel and the Fear

Here's a song for your ears that you've heard through the years
as it's chords are like many the same.
Such is life so it seems as the business folk dream
of a place that they'd rather call home.

As they sit in their cubes with their lives on repeat
to work the same day until they get old.
But the tragedy lies in the ones who survive
just to find out they have ruined themselves.

To the men and the women, who work in the fields
and the factories and the kitchens and the trains.
Here's to those whom without, this great country would die.
To my family, my neighbors, and my friends.

(Oh) I'm gonna go out and have me a night
and I'm gonna sing out a song for the rain.
Because this life is to strange to make way through it dry
so let's drink until the morning again.

So I climbed to the top of this bridge
that just happens to be named after the place where i live.
And from the peak of that monstrous man-made machine
I looked out on the city and my part of Jersey.
And there breathing it in, was then struck by an idea

That had to do with the people of my time
and how the things that they say and what's inside of their minds
are so frequently further from being the same
that i often can't tell if who they are will remain
where they stand at the end of our conversation.

And from this thought I have formed a complaint.
And I speak this now not from the lips of a saint.
No, I have certainly sinned, yes I've lived
and I hate to quote Bobby because I know that I look just like him
but I must also say what Ezra Pound did.

He said if a culture allows their language to die
then nothing else that they do from that point will survive.
And with this in my head, I sat down and listened
to the person in charge of me but I could not comprehend
a single word that he said
because he didn't say anything.

(Oh) I'm gonna go out and have me a night
and I'm gonna sing out a song for the rain.
Because this life is to strange to make way through it dry
so let's drink until the morning again.

Song 44: "Mingulay Boat Song"

We are workers at the hawser
We are workers since break of day
We are workers at the hawser
As the sun sets on Mingulay

Heel y'ho boys, let her go, boys
Bring her head round into the weather
Heel y'ho boys, let her go boys
Sailing homeward to Mingulay

What care we though white the Minch is
What care we for wind and weather?
Let her go boys, every inch is
Sailing homeward to Mingulay

 Wives are waiting by the pier head
or looking seaward from the heather.
Pull her 'round boys, and we’ll anchor
'ere the sun sets on Mingulay

Ships return now, heavy laden
Mothers holdin' their bairns a-cryin'
They’ll return though, when the sun sets
They’ll return back to Mingulay

When the wind is wild with shouting
And the waves mount ever higher
Anxious eyes turn ever seaward
To see us home, boys, to Mingulay

Song 43: "When I Was a Lad" - HMS Pinafore

When I was a lad I served a term
As office boy to an Attorney's firm.
I cleaned the windows and I swept the floor,
And I polished up the handle of the big front door.
I polished up that handle so carefullee
That now I am the Ruler of the Queen's Navee!

He polished up that handle so carefullee
That now he is the Ruler of the Queen's Navee!

As office boy I made such a mark
That they gave me the post of a junior clerk.
I served the writs with a smile so bland,
And I copied all the letters in a big round hand.
I copied all the letters in a hand so free,
That now I am the Ruler of the Queen's Navee!

He copied all the letters in a hand so free,
That now he is the Ruler of the Queen's Navee!

In serving writs I made such a name
That an articled clerk I soon became;
I wore clean collars and a brand-new suit
For the pass examination at the Institute,
And that pass examination did so well for me,
That now I am the Ruler of the Queen's Navee!

And that pass examination did so well for he,
That now he is the Ruler of the Queen's Navee!

Of legal knowledge I acquired such a grip
That they took me into the partnership.
And that junior partnership, I ween,
Was the only ship that I ever had seen.
But that kind of ship so suited me,
That now I am the Ruler of the Queen's Navee!

But that kind of ship so suited he,
That now he is the Ruler of the Queen's Navee!

I grew so rich that I was sent
By a pocket borough into Parliament.
I always voted at my party's call,
And I never thought of thinking for myself at all.
I thought so little, they rewarded me
By making me the Ruler of the Queen's Navee!

He thought so little, they rewarded he
By making him the Ruler of the Queen's Navee!

Now landsmen all, whoever you may be,
If you want to rise to the top of the tree,
If your soul isn't fettered to an office stool,
Be careful to be guided by this golden rule —
Stick close to your desks and never go to sea,
And you all may be rulers of the Queen's Navee!

Stick close to your desks and never go to sea,
And you all may be rulers of the Queen's Navee!

Song 42: "Gallows" - Brown Bird

Black blood red sky
And a belly all full of fire
Why I ask why
I don't know, I grow so tired
Of the battle of wrong and right
That's waged inside
Every time you speak your mind
We're the same damn kind
Or don't you know

With the devil's eyes and a dagger tongue
You fill the sky above us with the sound
Of fatal words like fire flung
From a careless bow
I grow so tired
Of the battle of wrong and right
That's waged inside
Every time you speak your mind
We're the same damn kind
Or don't you know

We all walk down to the hill
Where the gallows are swinging still
Nooses still clenched tight
'Round the necks of 10 million ghosts
They whisper don't forget us
But don't forget to keep moving on
We're the same damn kind
Or don't you know

Black blood red sky
And a belly all full of fire
Why I ask why
I don't know, I grow so tired
Of the battle of wrong and right
That's waged inside
Every time you speak your mind

Song 41: "Look Down" - Les Miserables

Look down, look down
Don't look 'em in the eye
Look down, look down
You're here until you die

The sun is strong
It's hot as hell below
Look down, look down
there's twenty years to go.

I've done no wrong
Sweet Jesus, hear my prayer
Look down, look down
Sweet Jesus doesn't care

I killed a man,
He tried to steal my wife
Look down, look down,
she wasn't worth your life.

I know she'll wait
I know that she'll be true
Look down, look down
They've all forgotten you

When I get free
You won't see me
Here for dust

Look down, look down
Don't look 'em in the eye.
How long, O Lord
Before you let me die?

Look down, look down
You'll always be a slave
Look down, look down
You're standing in your grave.

Song 40: "General Taylor"

Oh, stormy he is dead and gone
Walk me along, Johnny, carry me along
Oh, stormy he is dead and gone
Carry me to the buryin’ ground

And a-way, storm an’ blow!
Walk me along, Johnny, carry me along
Waaay, storm an’ blow
Carry me to the buryin’ ground

We dug his grave with a silver spade
A shroud of finest silk was made

Oh, you who dig old stormy’s grave
Dig it deep and make it safe

Oh lower him down with a golden chain
Make shure that he doesn’t rise again.

Oh, General Taylor died long ago
His gun, me boys, with the winds don’t blow

He died on the field of old Monterrey
And Santy Ana, he gained the day

Song 39: "Santianna Ballad"

O! Santianna fought for fame!
Heave away, Santianna!
And Santianna gained a name
All across the plains of Mexico!

Heave her up, and away we'll go
Heave away, Santianna!
Heave her up, and away we'll go
All across the plains of Mexico!

O! Santianna had a wooden leg
He used it for a cribbage peg

O! Santianna fought for his gold
The deeds he did have oft been told

O! Santianna gain'd the day,
He gain'd the day at Molly-Del-Rey.

O! Santianna fought for his life,
He gained his way in the terrible strife.

O! Santianna's men were brave,
Many found a hero's grave.

O! Santiana won at Molly-Del-Rey
And General Taylor he ran away.

O! Santianna's day is gone,
We left him buried off Cape Horn.

We dug his grave with a golden spade,
And marked the spot where he was laid.

O! Santianna's day is o'er,
Santianna will fight no more.

Song 38: "It Gets Better" - AlicebanD

And I'm sorry that we haven't talked for so long but
I've been happy being on my own and I
Got a great big gun, and hold on while I shoot a great big hole in my skull cause it's

It's kind of like I've made that hole so I
Might as well sit here on my own and I
I contemplate what it is I want so I can
Decide if this is working or not

And it's not, I know
But where can I go
When I love his whole
But his parts are so broken
And I hurt before
And there's still a hole
But I promised I'd give this a go

Clouds are forming so quickly it's too fast but the
Building's been building the sturdiness won't last and I
Know he can grate, he's a pain in the ass
And I am trying, I am, I will do what I must

And it's not, I know
But where can I go
When I love his whole
But his parts are so broken
And I hurt before
And there's still a hole
But I promised I'd give this a go

Keep my mind together and I
Can't withstand this stormy weather and
What is worse is this common substruction is lonely when all you can see is destruction

It's cold, I know
But where can I go
When I love this world
And I'm out on my own
And I hurt before
And there's still a hole
But I promised I'd give this a go

Sometimes when he tries it gets better
Sometimes when he tries it gets better
Sometimes when he tries it gets better
Most times he don't try he don't try he don't try

It's cold, I know
But where can I go
When I love this world
And I'm out on my own
And I hurt before
And there's still a hole
But I promised I'd give this a go

Marching forward one by one
Taking soldiers with their guns
Breathe it all in lung by lung
But I can't see you sideways

Marching to town one by one
Taking villagers gun by gun
Taking lives is all good fun
But they have got to go

It's cold, I know
But where can I go
When I love this world
And I'm out on my own
And I hurt before
And there's still a hole
But I promised I'd give this a go

It's cold, I know
But where can I go
When I love this world
And I'm out on my own
And I hurt before
And there's still a hole
But I promised I'd give this a go

Song 37: "Prediction of Warfare" - Amon Amarth

Ships were prepared
Weapons and shields
Sails were raised
We headed out to sea!

Norway disappeared in the east
Our journey had begun
Helpful winds gave us our speed
Under a warming sun

Heading to the emerald land
A fleet of 50 ships
An army of two thousand men lead by the king

On the horizon dark clouds arose
Thor rode across the black clouds
As the night rolled in over us
We felt the wrath of the storm

That night I was haunted by dreams
An omen, of what was to come
The serpent arose from the sea

Ready to strike
With hammer in hand
The serpent in pain,
twisting in furious rage!
Fought for its life
The serpent escaped
Thor was in rage
My dreams began to fade

Woke from dreams
Sword in my hand
The break of dawn
We were closing in on Irish land
Time to attack
Grabbed our shields
We came ashore
And saw the waiting horde

The fight was short and deadly intense
The Irish fought us well
But as we gained the upperhand
Their fighting spirit quelled

Ready to strike
With swords in our hands
They struggle with heart
The Irish fell to our wrath
Fought for his life
Their king escaped
With fury divine
King Olaf threw his sword

Song 36: "Córdoba Norte" - Atahualpa Yupanqui

Goodbye colourful hill
Hill of the painted rocks.
Someday I will return
along your goat paths

I am headed up the slope
along the edge of the ridge
Pure rock and solitude
road of the Camiñiaga*

The height of Santa Cruz
Has a jungle of palm trees
Through them goes the afternoon
With a light of a vidala**
Goodbye Cordoban north
Land of beautiful countrymen
The traditions are leaving now
Goodbye Sir Tristán Moyano

I am leaving via the old trail
through Deanfunes and Ongamira
Between couplets and roads
life is running away from me.

I do not want to sing of sadness
But there are some roads that hurt.
Some with a burning sun,
and some with a full moon.

Heart, where are you going,
From where are they calling you?
Perhaps to console you,
or to drive you away, crying.
Goodbye Cordoban north
Land of beautiful countrymen
The traditions are leaving now
Goodbye Sir Tristán Moyano

*Perhaps a city along the royal road of the Inca Empire.

**A kind of song/poetry from northern Argentina, so very apropos.

Adiós Cerro Colorado
cerro de piedras pintadas.
Algún día he de volver
por tu camino de cabras.

Me voy por el cuesta arriba
orillando la quebrada.
Pura piedra y soledad,
camino de Camiñiaga.

El alto de Santa Cruz
tiene una selva de palmas.
Por ellas se va la tarde
con una luz de vidalas.
Adiós norte cordobés,
tierra de lindos paisanos.
Ya se van las tradiciones.
¡Adiós Don Tristán Moyano!

Me voy por la senda vieja,
por Deanfunes y Ongamira.
Entre coplas y caminos
Se me va yendo la vida:

No quiero cantar tristezas
Pero hay caminos que apenan.
Algunos con sol quemantes
Y algunos con luna llena.

Corazón. ¿Dónde vas yendo,
De adonde te andan llamando?
Tal vez pa' darte consuelo,
o pa' largarte llorando.
Adiós norte cordobés,
Tierra de lindos paisanos.
Ya se van las tradiciones.
Adiós Don Tristán Moyano.

 

Song 35: "The Minstrel Boy"

The minstrel boy to the war is gone,
In the ranks of death you'll find him
His father's sword he hath girded on,
And his wild harp slung behind him

"Land of Song!" cried the warrior bard,
"Tho' 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 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!