POEM. The Land We Live In.
Written by P. M. King (1870) 

Friends and fellow-countrymen! we meet again, 
To-day, as Irishmen, as countrymen! 
We meet not in our own old Shamrock land, 
But here, on the Pacific’s distant strand; 
Not in our own Evergreen Isle, ‘tis true, 
But here in a land that is always new, 
Where Nature ever smiling seems to be, 
Bounteous alike o’er Land and Sea. 
This fertile soil, which you may truly call 
The land of plenty, with liberty for all! 
Here in this land, but once so nobly won 
By Freedom’s first of heroes — Washington! 
Ever sacred name! Thy banner when unfurled, 
Proclaims at once — Freedom to the world! 
(Excerpt) 

POEM. The Land We Live In.

Written by P. M. King (1870) 

Friends and fellow-countrymen! we meet again, 

To-day, as Irishmen, as countrymen! 

We meet not in our own old Shamrock land, 

But here, on the Pacific’s distant strand; 

Not in our own Evergreen Isle, ‘tis true, 

But here in a land that is always new, 

Where Nature ever smiling seems to be, 

Bounteous alike o’er Land and Sea. 

This fertile soil, which you may truly call 

The land of plenty, with liberty for all! 

Here in this land, but once so nobly won 

By Freedom’s first of heroes — Washington! 

Ever sacred name! Thy banner when unfurled, 

Proclaims at once — Freedom to the world! 

(Excerpt)