Isle of Hope, Isle of Tears

On the first day of January,
Eighteen ninety-two,
They opened Ellis Island and they let
The people through.
And first to cross the threshold
Of that isle of hope and tears,
Was Annie Moore from Ireland
Who was all of fifteen years.

Isle of hope, isle of tears,
Isle of freedom, isle of fears,
But it's not the isle you left behind.
That isle of hunger, isle of pain,
Isle you'll never see again
But the isle of home is always on your mind.

In a little bag she carried
All her past and history,
And her dreams for the future
In the land of liberty.
And courage is the passport
When your old world disappears
But there's no future in the past
When you're fifteen years

Isle of hope, isle of tears,
Isle of freedom, isle of fears,
But it's not the isle you left behind.
That isle of hunger, isle of pain,
Isle you'll never see again
But the isle of home is always on your mind.

When they closed down Ellis Island
In nineteen forty-three,
Seventeen million people
Had come there for sanctuary.
And in springtime when I came here
And I stepped onto it's piers,
I thought of how it must have been
When you're fifteen years.

Isle of hope, isle of tears,
Isle of freedom, isle of fears,
But it's not the isle you left behind.
That isle of hunger, isle of pain,
Isle you'll never see again
But the isle of home is always on your mind.
The isle of home is always on your mind.

Skibbereen

O Father dear, I often hear you speak of Erin's Isle
Her lofty scenes, her valleys green, her mountains rude and wild
They say it is a lovely land wherein a prince might dwell
Oh why did you abandon it? The reason, to me tell.

O son, I loved my native land with energy and pride
'Til a blight came o'er my crops, my sheep and cattle died
My rent and taxes were too high, I could not them redeem
And that's the cruel reason that I left old Skibbereen.

O well do I remember the bleak December day
The landlord and the sheriff came to drive us all away
They set my roof on fire with cursed English spleen
And that's another reason that I left old Skibbereen.

Your mother too, God rest her soul, fell on the snowy ground
She fainted in her anguish, seeing the desolation round
She never rose, but passed away from life to mortal dream
And found a quiet grave, my boy, in dear old Skibbereen.

And you were only two years old and feeble was your frame
I could not leave you with my friends, you bore your father's name
I wrapped you in my cothamore at the dead of night unseen
I heaved a sigh and bade good-bye to dear old Skibbereen.

O Father dear, the day may come when in answer to the call
Each Irishman, with feeling stern, will rally one and all
I'll be the man to lead the van beneath the flag of green
When loud and high, we'll raise the cry: "Remember Skibbereen!"

The Land of the Gael

I wish I was westward of Dingle
On the golden sands of Beál Bán
Where I’d wait for the mountain of Brandon
To appear in the red light of dawn
I’d gaze over Smerwick Harbour
See the yacht with its billowing sail
My body is here in the Bowery
But my heart’s in the Land of the Gael

Too free with the juice of the barely
It softens my will and my brain
And whenever I save a few dollars
I fall off the wagon again
But I’m thinking of Kerry in Ireland
The Blaskets and fair Ceann Sibéal
When the sun is a red ball of fire
As it sets on the Land of the Gael

In my mind's eye I see every detail
her mountains, valleys and seas,
The butterfly dancing a hornpipe,
the thistledown flying in the breeze,
The fuschia, loosestrife and cowparsley,
the primrose that blooms in the vale,
I'll pick the wild flowers in the Summer time
when I'm back in the Land of the Gael.

Now the wind like a knife it goes through me
and with hunger I'm ready to fall,
And the snowflakes are swirling around me
as I head for the Church Mission Hall,
I hear the sweet song of the skylark,
and I list to the curlew's sad wail,
As over the ocean they call me
to come back to the Land of the Gael.

For it's fifty long years since I left it,
a young fellow still in my teens,
Did I ever return now you ask me -
I go back every night in my dreams,
Yes the call of my homeland's all powerful,
and I'm certain this time I'll not fail,
Then I'll hear my own tongue and again
I'll be young when I'm home in the Land of the Gael.

Carrickfergus

I wish I was in Carrickfergus
Only for nights in Ballygrand
I would swim over the deepest ocean
The deepest ocean for my love to find

But the sea is wide and I cannot swim over
Neither have I wings to fly
If I could find me a handsome boatsman
To ferry me over to my love and die

My childhood days bring back sad reflections
Of happy times spent so long ago
My childhood friends and my own relations
Have all passed on now like melting snow

But I'll spend my days in endless roaming
Soft is the grass, my bed is free
Ah, to be back now in Carrickfergus
On that long road down to the sea

I'll spend my days in endless roaming
Soft is the grass, my bed is free
But I am sick now, and my days are numbered
Come all you young men and lay me down

Do bhí bean uasal seal dá lua liom,
's chuir sí suas díom fóraíl ghéar;
Do ghabhas lastuas di sna bailte móra
Ach go dtug sí svae  léi os comhair an tsaoil.

Is mian liom go raibh mé i Carrickfergus
Ach amháin le haghaidh oiche i Ballygran
Ba mhaith liom ag snamh os cionn na farraige is doimhne
An farraige is doimhne le mo ghrá a aimsiú