Immigration Songs
The Song of the
Red Man (1868) Henry C. Wok
When the palefaces came in their white-winged canoes,
Long ago, from the sun-rising sea,
When they asked for a lodge, and we did not refuse,
Happy then was the red man, and free.
He could then choose a spot for his wigwam to stand.
Where the forest was crowded with game;
For the blue-rolling lake and the ever-smiling land
Were his own till the palefaces came,
For the broad grassy plains and the forests deep and grand
Were his own till the palefaces came.
They came! they came!
Like the fierce prairie flame,
Sweeping on to the sun-setting shore:
Gazing now on its waves,
But a handful of braves,
We shall join in the chase nevermore;
Till we camp on the plains
Where the Great Spirit reigns,
We shall join in the chase nevermore.
When the oaks, pines, and cedars were felled to
the ground,
‘Twas a sight that with sorrow we saw;
For the game fled affrighted, and no food was found
For the old chief, the papoose and squaw.
Driven westward we came, but the paleface was here,
With his sharp axe and death-flashing gun;
And his great Iron Horse now is rumbling in the rear
O my brave men!
your journey is done.
Like the beaver and elk, like the buffalo and deer,
O my brave men! your journey is done.
They came! they
came! etc.
Uncle Sam’s Farm (1850) (E. P. Christy and Jesse Hutchinson)
Of all the mighty nations
In the East or in the West,
Oh, this glorious Yankee nation
Is the greatest and the best.
We have room for all creation,
And our banner is unfurled,
Here’s a general invitation
To the people of the world.
Then come along, come along.
Make no delay;
Come from every nation,
Come from every way.
Our lands, they are broad enough,
Don’t be alarmed.
For Uncle Sam is rich enough
To give us all a farm.
Our fathers gave us Liberty,
But little did they dream
The grand results that pour along
This mighty age of Steam:
For our mountains, lakes, and rivers
Are all a blaze of fire,
And we send our news by lightning
On the telegraphic wires.
Then come along, Etc.
Yes! We’re bound to beat the nations,
For our motto’s “Go ahead,”
And we’ll tell the foreign paupers
That our people are well fed;
For the nations must remember
That Uncle Sam is not a fool,
For the people do the voting,
And the children go to school.
Then come along, Etc.
We’ve a glorious Declaration
To protect us in our rights,
An instrument of Freedom,
For the blacks as well as whites.
And the day is swiftly coming
When liberty’s bright sun
Shall shine with noonday splendor
In the land of Washington.
O ye tiller of the soil,
In the East and in the West,
Come join the Greenback banner,
“Tis the wisest and the best;
It floats from the St. Lawrence
And down to the Rio Grande,
Inviting you to organize
In one great union band
No Irish Need
Apply (1863) O’Reilly
I’m a simple Irish girl,
And I’m looking for a place;
I’ve felt the grip of Poverty, But sure that’s no disgrace;
‘Twill be long before I get one,
Though indeed it’s hard I try,
For I read in each advertisement,
Alas! for my poor country,
Which I never will deny,
How they insult us when they write,
“No Irish need apply.”
Then they can’t deny us genius,
With ”Sheridan” - “Tom Moore,” -
The late lamented “Catherine Hayes,”
And Sam Lover to the Fore, -
Although they may laugh at our “Bulls,”
They cannot but admit,
That Pat is always sensible,
and has a ready wit, -
And if they ask for Beauty,
What can beat their nice black Eye?
Then is it not a shame to write,
“No Irish need apply”?
Ah! but now I’m in the land
Of the “Glorious” and “Free,”
And proud I am to own it,
A country dear to me;
I can see by your kind faces,
That you will not deny
A place in your hearts for Kathleen,
And All Irish may apply.
Then long may the Union flourish,
And ever may it be
A pattern to the world,
And the “Home of Liberty”!
Little Ah Sid
Little Ah Sid
Was a Chinese Kid,
A cute little cuss you’d declare:
With eyes full of fun
And a nose that begun
Right up at the roots of his hair;
Jolly and fat
Was this frolicsome brat,
As he played thro’ the long summer day,
And braided his cue
As his father used too (sic)
In china land, far away.
Liya, ling hip, hop, wing,
Chinaman dance and China man sing;
Flip-flop fling, catch um wing,
‘Melican butterfly he sting!
Over the lawn
That Ah Sid played on,
A bumblebee flew in the spring;
“melican butterfly,”
Said he, with winking eye,
“Me catshee and pull of um wing.”
Then with his cap
Did he strike it a rap,
This innocent, gay bumblebee;
He put is remains
In the seat of his jeans,
For a pocket there had this Chinese.
Kiya, ling, etc.
Down on the green
Sat the wee sardine
In style that was strangely demure,
And said with a grin
that was brimful of sin,
“Me washee um butterfly sure!”
Little Ah Sid
He was only a kid,
And you could not expect him to guess
What kind of a bug
He was holding so snug
In folds of his loose-fitting dress.
Kiya, lin, etc.
The Argentines,
The Portuguese, and The Greeks
Columbus discovered America in 1492
Then came the English and the Dutch
The Frenchman and the Jew
Then cam the Swede and the Irishman
Who helped the country grow
Still they kept a coming and now
Everywhere you go
There’s the Argentines and the Portuguese,
The Armenians and the Greeks
One sells you papers, one shines your shoes,
Another shaves the whiskers off your cheeks
When you ride again in a subway
Notice who have all the seats
And you’ll find they are held by
The Argentine and the Portuguese and the Greek
There’s the Ritz Hotel and the Commodore and
The Vanderbilt and the rest
All of them are classy, up to date hotels
They boast accommodations of the best
When you ask the clerk for a room and bath
He looks at you sarcastically and speaks
Why we’re all filled up with the Argentine
And the Portuguese and the Greek
There’s the Oldsmobile and the Huntmobile
And the Cadillac and the Ford
There are the motors you and I can own
The kind most anybody can afford
But the Cunningham and the Mercury
And the Rolls Royce racing free
Ah they all belong to the Argentine and
The Portuguese and the Greek
There are pretty girls, there are witty girls
There is every kind of a girl
Some you like a little, some a little more
But none of them will set your heart a whirl
When you really feel you’ve met your ideal
A girl with smart and chic
You will find she belongs to an Argentine or
A Portuguese or a Greek
They don’t know the language
They don’t know the law
But they vote in the country of the free
And the funny thing when we start to sing
My Country Tis of Thee
None of us know the words
But the Argentine, the Portuguese, and the Greek