Don't know the requested song, but I found this powerful song on this site (click) on the California Gold Rush.
-Joe Offer-

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JOHN CHINAMAN'S APPEAL
Tune: Umbrella Courtship


1
American, now mind my song,
   If you would but hear me sing,
And I will tell you of the wrong,
   That happened until unto "Gee Sing,"
In "fifty-two" I left my home --
   I bid farewell to "Hong Kong" --
I started with Cup Gee to roam
   To the land where they use the "long tom".

CHORUS:
O ching hi ku tong mo ching ching,
   O ching hi ku tong chi do,
Cup Gee hi ku tong mo ching, ching
   Then what could Gee or I do?

2
In forty days I reached the Bay,
   And nearly starved I was, sir,
I cooked and ate a dog one day -
   I didn't know the laws sir -
But soon I found my dainty meal
   Was against the city order.
The penalty I had to feel -
   Confound the old Recorder.

3
By paying up my cost and fines,
   They freed me from the locker,
And then I started for the mines -
   I got a pick and rocker.
I went to work in an untouched place,
   I'm sure I meant no blame sir -
But a white man struck me in the face
   And told me to leave his claim, sir.

4
'Twas then I packed my tools away
   And set up in a new place,
But there they would not let me stay -
   They didn't like the cue race.
And then I knew not what to do,
   I could not get employ,
The Know Nothings would bid me go -
   'Twas tu nah mug ahoy.

5
I started then for Weaverville
   Where Chinamen were thriving,
But found our China agents there
   In ancient feuds were driving.
So I pitched into politics,
   But with the weaker party;
The Canton's with their clubs and bricks
   Did drub us out "right hearty."

6
I started for Yreka then;
   I thought that I would stay there,
But found for even Chinamen
   The "diggings" wouldn't pay there.
So I set up a washing shop,
   But how extremely funny,
The miners all had dirty clothes,
   But not a cent of money.

7
I met a big stour Indian once,
   He stopped me in the trail, sir,
He drew an awful scalping knife,
   And I trembled for my tail, sir.
He caught me by the hair, it's true,
   In a manner quite uncivil,
But when he saw my awful cue,
   He thought I was the devil.

8
Oh, now my friends I'm going away
   From this infernal place, sir;
The balance of my days I'll stay
   With the Celestial race, sir.
I'll go to raising rice and tea;
   I'll be a heathen ever,
For Christians all have treated me
   As men should be used never.

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Lyrics in Lingenfelter & Dwyer, Songs of the American West, page 302 Also take a look at John Chinaman, My Jo in the Digital Tradition.