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A Poem of Immigrants
Across the sea
Far from home
We find a land
To call our own
A free place
Of liberty
With arms wide open
Waiting, calling, “Come to me”
Of finding there
Freedom to worship God
Without fear
---
England we leave
Holland, too
Traveling across wide sea
To find a home that’s new
---
The journey, harsh
The storms, strong
We grow weak
Sickness visits near all
---
Friends and Strangers
Pilgrims we
Came to land
Of liberty
---
First few years
Of hardships full
But by God’s grace
We survived all
---
God bless this land
America
This free land
To which we come
Far from home
We find a land
To call our own
A free place
Of liberty
With arms wide open
Waiting, calling, “Come to me”
Food and peace
War and famine
Are terrible beasts
---
Ireland our home
We leave behind
Friends and family
Who have died
---
On new ships
With steam for sail
Atlantic is crossed
Our companion a gale
---
The first thing
That we did see
Was the magnificent
Statue of Liberty
---
Work is hard
Living is poor
But our grandchildren
Will some day soar
---
God bless this land
America
Which our children will say with pride
They are from
Far from home
We find a land
To call our own
A free place
Of liberty
With arms wide open
Waiting, calling, “Come to me”
We journey to
Starting our lives
There, a-new
---
Around the world
We are from
Our destination,
America
---
By many means
We find our way
By sea, land
And air-o-plane
---
We come and mix
In the great Melting Pot
We give and receive cultures
We give and receive a lot
---
For most the journey
Is rough to tread
But it’s worth it
In the end
---
So, God bless this land
America
A part of which
We have become