To An Irishman, I Suppose

Like Catholic-Green prominence
Spring falling thru'
An American turning as
All of us do
I, reared in arrogance
Continental thought;
Like planning the battles
Before they are fought

Von Schlieffen and Belgium
A Germanic fixation
You cannot really join in
That dance between Nations
For impressment and U-boats
Will spark off a war
The battle plans drawn in
A Continental "Before"

An island of Ulster-Scots
And you in your green
"The Day", "The Again"
and what happened between
My New World Idealist
Oh so far apart
From the Alsace rally-cry
In Every French heart

Mixed of all influences
On every new shore
Birthed of a Nation,
Pried from a War
We are all Europeans
My Irishman, too,
March decking morning
Your fields dark with dew

But again, the Day comes
Far off and away
And what can you know of
Alsace and Lorraine?
It takes a Frenchman
Or a German to see
The circle of treaties
And the spaces between

Well the difference is there
And American truth
Shines forth from Irish
New Worlders like you
I know places like Dresden,
Munich, Berlin,
While you walk the fields
Livened by Spring