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.