A Stitch in Haste

Here are the lyrics to one of my two favorite Irish-American songs, “Staten Island.”

—

We sailed our ship up the Hudson River,
To the wild Atlantic we said farewell.
On Staten Island when we landed
There we had our tale to tell.

We’re the poor, the huddled masses,
We have crossed the lonely sea.
Left the Old World for the New World,
Left the old ways to be free.

We left our homes in forty-seven.
Turned our backs against the wind.
From our ships of creaking timber
We bid farewell to a famished land.

We’re the poor, the huddled masses,
We have crossed the lonely sea.
Left the Old World for the New World,
Left the old ways to be free.

With heavy hearts we left behind us
Memories of better days.
Old men talking, children laughing
As we danced the night away.

We’re the poor, the huddled masses,
We have crossed the lonely sea.
Left the Old World for the New World,
left the old ways to be free.

Still we hear their voices calling
On the wind we hear the sound.
Friends and loved ones, old and young ones
Lie beneath the famine mount.

We’re the poor, the huddled masses,
We have crossed the lonely sea.
Left the Old World for the New World,
Left the old ways to be free.

Now those years are far behind us,
Now our spirits have grown strong.
In this land that gave us freedom
And the will to carry on.

We’re the poor, the huddled masses,
we have crossed the lonely sea.
Left the Old World for the New World,
left the old ways to be free.

—

For those knowledgeable about such things, my other favorite Irish-American song is “Uncle Benji.” Maybe I’ll share it with you someday.

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