When on Ramilles´ bloody field
The baffled French were forced to yield,
The victor Saxon backward reeled
Before the charge of Clare´s Dragoons.
The flags we conquered in that fray
Look lone in Ypres choir they say,
We´ll win them company today,
Or bravely die like Clare´s Dragoons.

Viva la, for Ireland´s wrong!
Viva la, for Ireland´s right!
Viva la, in battle throng,
For a Spanish steed and a sabre bright!

The brave old lord died near the fight,
But for each drop he lost that night
A Saxon cavalier shall bite
The dust, before Lord Clare´s Dragoons.
For never, when our spurs were set,
And never, when our sabres met,
Could we the Saxon soldiers get
To stand the shock of Clare´s dragoons.

Viva la, the New Brigade!
Viva la, the old one too!
Viva la, the Rose shall fade
And the Shamrock shine for ever new!

O comrades! Think how Ireland pines,
Her exiled lords, her rifled shrines,
Her dearest hope the ordered lines
And bursting charge of Clare´s Dragoons.
Then fling the Green Flag to the sky,
And ´Limerick!´ be your battle cry,
And charge til blood flows fetlock-high
Around the track of Clare´s Dragoons!