Not even Lucy, all the years before, And Lucy was the porcelain belle of the world! And so when she said. And he couldn’t believe At first. But she was silver and fire and steel That day of the new stars and the new flag, Fire and bright steel for the invading horde And silver for the men who drove them off, And so she sewed him in her flag and heart: Though even now, he couldn’t believe she had In spite of all the letters and the socks And kissing him before he went away. But it was so⁠—the necessary joke Made into a man at last, a man in love And loved by the most porcelain belle of the world. And he was ready to march to the world’s end And fight ten million Yanks to keep it so.

“Oh God, after we’re married⁠—the cool night Over the garden⁠—and Lucy sitting there In her blue dress while the big stars come out.”