In "The Emigrant Irish", Eavan Boland captured the pain and resilience of generations forced to leave Ireland, turning their journey into a lasting act of remembrance. Her poem is a stark reminder that the emigrant experience was never just about departure, but about survival, identity, and the songs carried into a new world.
Irish poet, author, and professor Eavan Frances Boland passed away at her home in Dublin on April 27, 2020, at the age of 75. Born in Dublin, Boland served as the director of creative writing at Stanford University for 21 years and received the Lannan Literary Award for Poetry.
Boland wrote “The Emigrant Irish,“ one of the great poems of emigration, about how hard it was for the Irish forced to leave. Former Irish President Mary Robinson used it as part of her “Light in the Window” initiative, always keeping a light shining for emigrants, welcoming them home in her presidential residence, Aras an Uachtarain.
It is a profound poem, one I never tire of reading. It encapsulates a deep understanding of that emigrant experience, often misunderstood by those who remained in Ireland.
Here it is, with my observations coming first before every stanza.
"The Emigrant Irish" by Eavan Boland
Boland lays bare the sad fact that many Irish forgot the millions of forced leave takers as soon as they had gone, that they and their trials and tribulations were old hat, and there were lots more shiny objects to focus on in a thoroughly modern Ireland. Emigrants were like old oil lamps, no longer useful to remember.
Like oil lamps, we put them out the back
of our houses, of our minds. We had lights
better than, newer than and then
a time came, this time and now
we need them. Their dread, makeshift example:
they would have thrived on our necessities.
However, we need to remember what they went through, as Boland said, “What they survived, tragedies such as famine, cholera, pestilence, we in the modern era could never have lived through.
What they survived we could not even live.
“Their possessions may become our power” is among the most powerful lines in the poem, a plea to understand them and, by understanding them, deepen our ability to understand ourselves and others.
By their lights now it is time to
imagine how they stood there, what they stood with,
that their possessions may become our power:
Cardboard. Iron. Their hardships parceled in them.
Boland writes it is time that, far from forgetting them, we must embrace them like never before, standing with their cheap suitcases ready to embark from Ireland with nothing to bring but their own drive and belief. By embracing their experience, we learn how profound the struggle and the success were.
Patience. Fortitude. Long-suffering
in the bruise-colored dusk of the New World.
And all the old songs. And nothing to lose.
The final lines are especially evocative -- the old songs they took with them on their journey sustained them on their incredible voyage, and their songs can continue to inspire us all, especially at this time when such heavy concerns weigh on us. The poem tells us that our people have all been here before, in the midst of darkness and chaos, and we found our way out. Our generation can learn from that and also succeed.
Here is The Irish Emigrant by Eavan Boland in full:
Like oil lamps, we put them out the back —
of our houses, of our minds. We had lights
better than, newer than and then
a time came, this time and now
we need them. Their dread, makeshift example:
they would have thrived on our necessities.
What they survived we could not even live.
By their lights now it is time to
imagine how they stood there, what they stood with,
that their possessions may become our power:
Cardboard. Iron. Their hardships parceled in them.
Patience. Fortitude. Long-suffering
in the bruise-colored dusk of the New World.
And all the old songs. And nothing to lose.
* This article was originally published in 2020 and updated in April 2026.
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