human
Land of song! said the warrior-bard,
gpt
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,
human
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!