"The Arabic" Videos
In the stony grey soil through hardship and toil,
Roscommon's rough lands they owned me.
Digging potatoes and ploughing the earth,
As my family did long before me.
But I swore I would furrow, plant my own seed,
Rise from my knees and stand proudly.
America, I swore, or some foreign shore,
Would grant the life I dream of surely.
So I saved up the money, my passage to pay,
And braved the world early one morning.
I bid adieu to my family among grief and tears,
As they feared there was no returning.
On the White Star Line I'd soon sail away,
Although the Great War was still raging.
I walked the long days, to Queenstown made way,
Till the Arabic it loomed far above me.
Who knows what fate brings, what life has in store?
We peer through a looking glass dimly.
As I stepped on board, and steerage went toward,
Below decks a dread chill spread o'er me.
At last we weighed anchor, ploughed o'er the main,
The last hint of land dimming slowly.
We zigzagged our course for fear of the worst,
And the wor
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