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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required I met my love one summer's day Amongst the fields threshing hay Her bonnet slung about her neck As homewards afterwards we did trek Her bonny brown hair to waist length did fall A comely wench with wherewithal She at first was hard to win But at harvest dance she kicked me on my shin I winced with pain, I put it on pretending it hurt more and more anon It gave me a chance to catch her eye To make her laugh and made her sigh Next time we met I knew her worth Her honest folk were salt of the earth We courted for three long years Our yearnings often brought us to tears We saved as much as we could afford We wanted to emigrate 'abroad', America was the place to go Jobs aplenty and land to grow and farm upon And all year round I heard that always the sun shone When we had saved up our fare We booked our passage without a care But once upon the steamer ship We were retching and felt homesick On upper deck we sickly laid As my wife nursed our three month babe Eventually we reached New York Which we couldn't see, as we arrived in the dark At Ellis Island they checked us three As nervously I held Thomas on my knee Inspection over we were led out So joyous our happiness we wanted to shout A land of opportunity we believed it all But had no permanent work until the fall Our dreams of owning our own farm Vanished long ago with each early dawn The children came one after another Thomas had two sisters, then a brother Our tenement flat overlooked Central Park We saw horse drawn carriages and heard morning lark I worked in a meat factory from dawn to dusk The only way to get a few dollars to earn a crust We were best off back in Ireland Tending sheep for a guinea crown Good honest labour out in the fresh air Not working indoors under a gas light flare My wife and children shall suffer no more I promised her as I left through the door I shall get our passage fare home And down to the bank my feet did roam To withdraw my savings for that dream farm It's not worth it if my family came to any harm Now we are back in old Ireland And to cattle and pigs I now do tend I'm renting my old abode With an acre of land as I did of old To see the contented smile on my wife's face I think on it as we say our grace To give thanks for what we are about to receive To be back home we are mightily relieved.
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