Filling the trenches with their dead that day,
John Croker's voice was heard above the battle din,
Leading his company through death and slaughter then.
Until at last the fatal bullet riven,
Laid our hero low and sent his soul to heaven;
Deep was the grief and sorrow at his loss we bore,
As that noble chieftain lay weltering in his gore.
While round his ghastly corpse we bravely tried
To quell the sweeping torrent of the rushing tide
That rushed upon us with such resistless fire,