This one is for you, Kat and all those other ex-pat Kiwis out there.

Our cities face the sea
David McKee Wright
Jack came from Cornwall, and Pat from Donegal
'Arry came from London, the first place of all,
Sandy came from Aberdeen, and Tom's native-born
but they're all mates together in the lands of the morn.
    Pulling, pulling on the one rope together,
    Bringing up the future with a golden tether,
Cousin Jack and Cockney, Irishman and Scot,
And the native is a brother to the whole blooming lot.

He worked at Gabriel's gully, he was there at the Dunstan rush,
H was first when the reefing opened and the batteries started to crush;
He was favourite ever with fortune, and whatever he touched would pay,
And his life was a song with the chorus, `I'm going home one day.'
But he made his home on the hillside where the city faces the sea,
And he saw the houses rising and the children on his knee,
And he toiled, and laughed, and was happy, as the years went rolling by;
For we take our homeland with us, however we change our sky.

He thought of a far-off village, and a steeple grey with years,
The cottages white in the sunshine, and a parting day of tears;
He saw the gardens blooming with lavender around the beds,
And the doors that were bowered with roses that nodded over their heads;
He heard the thrushes singing, and the sparrows chirping at morn;
He saw the joy of the hay-time, and the poppies that starred the corn;
But up on the bush-covered hill-side the years went laughing by;
For we take our homeland with us, however we change our sky.


He left the windy city for the home beyond the sea, -
He would spend his age in the village beneath the old roof-tree;
He would hear again the ringing of the mellow Sunday bell,
And the folk would gather round him for the tales he had to tell,
The glamour of days long faded he would gather again anew;
He would see the happy meadows and the daisies washed in dew -
He went, and he saw, and he wearied, and ever his thoughts would fly
To another and dearer homeland under another sky.


He had learned the charm of the mountains, the breath of the tussocks he knew;
He had lived in a land of sunshine, under skies of cloudless blue;
And the charm of the old had faded, as the charm of the new had grown,
Till he hailed the windy islands with their flax and fern as his own,
Till he thought with a tender longing of lake, and mountain, and plain,
And the digger's camp in the gully, with its toil and its laughter again.
The old land could not hold him, its ways were sere and dry;
For we take our homeland with us in youth when we change our sky.


Our cities look to the ocean, the homeland is far away;
The ships come sailing, sailing, and anchor in the bay;
Oh, tender the ties that bind us to the land our fathers knew,
And rich the storied record of a people strong and true;
Our thoughts will linger fondly in the North-land far away,
But our own land, our homeland is where we live to-day.
For together in toil and laughter the years go rolling by,
And we take our homeland with us, however we change our sky.

Jack came from Cornwall, and Pat from Donegal
'Arry came from London, the first place of all,
Sandy came from Aberdeen, and Tom's native-born,
But they're all mates together in the lands of the morn.
    Pulling, pulling on the one rope together,
    Bringing up the future with a golden tether.
Cousin Jack and Cockney, Irishman and Scot,
And the native is a brother to the whole blooming lot.


    Pulling, pulling on the one rope strong
    Bringing up the future with a shout and a song,
But the tides rise and fall, and the steamers come to call,
And the cities face the sea, and the winds are blowing free,
And out across the ocean is our home after all.