Another emigrant, from Ennistymon, a village on the edge of the Burren, has been in New York for a couple of decades now. Danny Quinn also wrote of his joy in going back for visits, real or imagined, while recognizing that New York is his home. (Also on Vacant Chair.)
One verse goes
   Somehow I never thought that I'd fit in here
   In this place of so much bustle, and that rattling subway train,
   But so many arms and doors have opened for me;
   Those arms have wrapped around me, and so I will remain.
    Ah, but sweet Ennistymon. . .