A welcome, Sam, throughout the land,
⁠While roaming is your lot;—
Reception warm we give to some,
⁠To you we give it hot!

For ships are scarce, that anchor here,
⁠Can boast a lad like you;—
What is there, Sam, you never tried,
⁠That Handy craft can do?

Your voice, we know it well, Sam,—
⁠We heard it long ago,
In the sweet-souled "angel's whisper,"
⁠Where the "four-leaved shamrocks" grow.

​And your merry laugh, we've heard, Sam,
⁠The hearty Irish roar,—
We held our sides with Rory, Sam,
⁠And now we cry for More.

'Tis a greeting, Sam, unstinted,
⁠That we offer to the true,—
And a welcome, strong and hearty, Sam,
⁠Should meet a man like you.