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作曲 : Traditional arranged by David Kincaid |
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Ye sons of green Erin, assemble |
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And join in the battle's array |
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The usurpers and traitors shall tremble |
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When they see the brigade in the fray |
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Go and march to the battlefield proudly |
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Let the foe at your might be dismayed |
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And the trumpet of fame shall sound loudly |
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The praise of the Irish Brigade |
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Old Grann now looks over the ocean |
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And hears the fierce bugle of Mars |
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And the strength of her heart's high devotion |
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Is roused for the Stripes and the Stars |
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And she raises her voice loud as thunder |
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That voice which was always obeyed |
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Saying, "Boys, cut the rebels asunder |
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With the swords of the Irish Brigade!" |
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In view of the guilt and the treason |
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The goddess of liberty sighs |
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Let us up and defend her in season |
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And bring back the joy of her eyes |
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Bear the Stars and the Stripes o'er you proudly |
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And ne'er let your march be delayed |
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'Til the foe flies in terror before you |
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When charged by the Irish Brigade |
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Go and march to the battlefield proudly |
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Let the foe at your might be dismayed |
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And the trumpet of fame shall sound loudly |
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The praise of the Irish Brigade! |
