Ye sons of green Erin, assemble

and join in the battle's array

The usurpers and traitors shall tremble

when they see the brigade in the fray

Go and march to the battlefield proudly,

let the foe at your might be dismayed

And the trumpet of fame shall sound loudly

the praise of the Irish Brigade



Old Grann now looks over the ocean

and hears the fierce bugle of Mars

And the strength of her hearts high devotion

is roused for the Stripes and the Stars

And she raises her voice loud as thunder,

that voice which was always obeyed

Saying, "Boys, cut the rebels a-sunder,

with the swords of the Irish Brigade!"



In view of the guilt and the treason,

the goddess of liberty sighs

Let us up and defend her in season,

and bring back the joy of her eyes

Bear the stars and the stripes o'er you proudly,

and ne'er let your march be delayed

'Til the foe flies in terror before you,

when charged by the Irish Brigade

Go and march to the battlefield proudly,

let the foe at your might be dismayed

And the trumpet of fame shall sound loudly

the praise of the Irish Brigade!