1. 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! march to the battle field, proudly, Let the foe at your might be dismay'd , And the trumpet of fame shall sound loudly, The praise of the Irish Brigade. 2. Old "Grann" now looks over the ocean, And hears the fierce bugle of Mars, And the strength of her heart's high devotion, Is rous'd for the stripes and the stars; And she raises her voice loud as thunder, That voice which was always obey'd, Saying Boys cut the rebels asunder With the swords of the Irish Brigade. 3. 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 delay'd, Till the foe flies in terror before you, When charg'd by the Irish Brigade.