You Irishmen and women too, draw near, both young and old
A doleful lamentation now to you I will unfold
One hundred gallant Irishmen, we are left for to deplore
Whose bodies fell victim upon fair Columbia’s shore
It was at the siege of New Orleans, upon the ninth of May
Our Countrymen they suffered so upon that fatal day
They were engaged by five to one when charged on with the steel
But Erin’s sons did loudly cry we’ll die before we kneel
They were repulsed they could not stand exertion proved in vain
They strove to break the enemy’s force, and drive them from the plain
But alas their number it was too small and it gave them no fair play
Not one of them did near escape upon that fatal day
To see the streets that evening each heart would rend with pain
The human blood in rivers ran that can it flood a stream
Men’s heads blown off their bodies most dismal for to see
And wounded men did loudly cry with pain and agony
The federals they did then advanced and broken through the town
They trampled dead and wounded men that lay upon the ground
The wounded called for mercy but none they did receive
They numbered them among the dead and threw them in the grave
Three hundred killed and wounded that lay in their grave
One half of them were Irish men far from their native shore
Poor orphans now they may weep and cry and parents through the day
They let their lovely children go on to Americay
For ye that hear those doleful lines do not neglect to toil
An they everfore enlighten good On St Patricks Isle
And a drink upon our countrymen who left their native shore
Their friends may mourn for their loss they’ll never seem them more
Now to conclude with these few lines, with grief I’ll say no more
You know it was through poverty they left their native shore
They had no one to heal their wounds may angels them surround
Before the throne of heaven may they wear a brilliant crown
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